


Between Dreams and Reality

by Children_of_the_Shadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2543234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Children_of_the_Shadows/pseuds/Children_of_the_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Glass Barrier

_There was nothing but thin glass separating them. It looked almost non-existent: clear and spotless; almost as if Sirius could grasp whatever was on the other side if he just extended his hand towards it. Not even light seemed to reflect on its surface, passing through into Sirius's eyes. Yet, he didn't find himself squinting like normally would; the light seemed not painful, but inspirational. He felt that if light could so easily pass through this barrier then perhaps he could too._

_If he reached out, then perhaps the person on the other side would smile. This person who always visited him with amber eyes, haunted and dull. Sirius found him beautiful, which in itself was ironic, because he never saw beyond the eyes. It was as if this person had no outline; apart from those amber pools, he was but a bleed of colours, and the pale light of his skin spread beyond human structure. Sirius found himself wondering if it was an angel. Yet, it seemed almost sinful to call it so, when Sirius could clearly make out the bleeding red of his lips as they parted to speak._

_Unable to hear him, Sirius moved closer, one hand pressing against the cool glass. The figure startled from Sirius's sudden boldness and just like that, Sirius lost sight of the light. He became engulfed in darkness momentarily, before it returned, an alabaster hand pressing against his from the other side. It almost felt as if they were really touching, because the glass was no longer cool. It was warm, like the heat of skin touching skin. Sirius moved his fingers in a circular arch, watching in awe as the tips of their fingers moved together in a slow dance: left and then slowly penduluming to the right, before coming to a stop palm pressed against palm._

_Red lips moved again and Sirius pressed closer to hear, until his nose was touching the glass._

_'I love you.'_

* * *

'Another one of those dreams?' James asked, settling beside Sirius at the dinner table. 'You look terrible.'

Sirius did look terrible. He could see his distorted reflection on Lily's metal stove and it looked little short of a disaster. His grey eyes were shadowed by darkness, limp hair flopping haphazardly over them. He hadn't really had time to wash his hair these past few days and his face hadn't seen a razor in what seemed like weeks. Lily had already pointed out, quite tactlessly while preparing dinner, that Sirius was a  _"dirty slob who has been wearing the same clothes for the last three days and until you clean up, you can forget about dropping by for dinner"._ Under normal circumstances, Sirius would have brushed off Lily's comment about his appearance with a grin and a joke about temperamental pregnant women. Today, however, Sirius could tell from the grime collecting underneath his fingernails that perhaps a hot shower would do him good. He wondered if Lily would chop his head off if he asked to borrow the bath; he hadn't quite gotten around to fixing the heater in his.

'It's always the same one,' Sirius muttered, looking away from his reflection. 'Down to the very last detail, except that…' He hesitated, watching as Lily set the last of the food on the table and looked at him curiously. 'Except that I feel he's getting closer. With every single dream that passes, I feel like I'm almost there; I'm almost going to touch him but I don't…'

'Right,' James gave a confused sigh and started piling salad on his plate. This was James's way of saying he was done trying to understand this conversation and would really rather eat.

Sirius didn't feel like letting go that easily. The Potters were all he had in terms of family and the only ones he could rely on for conversational therapy, because he was far too poor to afford any other kind. 'Do you think I'm dying?'

'Sirius Orion Black!' Lily scolded, her fork pointing threateningly towards his face. 'Don't you dare say something like that again, dinner table or not!'

'I'm just saying,' Sirius protested. 'Remember that rubbish show we saw the other day on the telly? They were talking about these people with near death experiences and what not. Some of them knew they were dying because they saw a white light or an angel of some kind. Maybe that's what's happening to me!'

'Heaven is the last place you'll be going to, Sirius Black,' Lily scoffed. 'Now, eat your broccoli. I don't want to see you pushing them to the side of your plate  _or_ vanishing them. You're not five. Pregnancy gives you three eyes, Black, and I can see you with all of them closed.'

'Your woman is out of control, Jamie-boy,' Sirius commented, stabbing at his vegetable with contempt.

James glanced at Lily and kept his mouth dutifully shut, when she shot him a stern look.  _Whipped,_ was the only way Sirius could truly describe his best friend. Or perhaps " _beaten down"_  would be a more appropriate term. Lily was thoroughly enjoying pregnancy because not only did it give her bigger knockers, but also an excuse to unleash her legendary rage and temper on poor civilians with a ridiculous excuse of  _"hormones". Bollocks_ , is what Sirius thought of, because men had hormones too and all it got them was a desire to have sex.

'He told me he loved me, you know,' Sirius persisted, blushing brightly at the incredulous looks he received.

'Are you sure this isn't another one of your wank fantasies?' James asked with a snort. 'Sounds an awful lot like one. Maybe you have a thing for bright white lights and what not.'

'Wasn't doing a very good job if it was one,' Sirius replied sourly. 'I was about as flaccid as Lily's morning toast.' He artfully ducked the slipper that Lily flung at his head and grinned, getting back to his dinner. 'Thing is, it isn't a bad dream. It doesn't shake me awake and I sleep peacefully until morning. It's the minute I wake up that the bloody lethargy starts. I feel utterly worn out afterwards and I don't know why.' Sirius bit his lip, staring at his plate. 'Worst part is: I want to go back. I want to see him again.'

'Sirius,' Lily placed a hand over his softly. 'Why don't you come over to the hospital tomorrow? I'll have someone run over a few tests for you. Maybe I can prescribe you a few potions of  _Dreamless Sleep._ You'll be feeling better in no time.'

Sirius nodded, occupying his mouth with chicken to avoid saying that he didn't want any potions. He didn't want to stop dreaming.

The next few minutes were followed by silence, only punctuated by the scraping of forks against plates and Sirius finding openings where he could possibly get rid of his broccoli without actually having to eat them. It was all in vain, because every time he tried, he received a swift kick in the shins from Lily and sniggering from James. If he were to be honest, Sirius wanted answers. He wanted to know what these dreams of his meant and perhaps even if it really did mean he was dying. Sirius wondered, if given the choice, would he accept death so easily. Then again, given the circumstances and the turmoil the Wizarding World was in, death wasn't so far off a concept. Voldemort was expanding his reigns all over the country, perhaps beyond. Even purebloods were no longer safe; not unless they joined his ranks. There was war brewing, Sirius could tell.

'You need to clean up before you get thrown off the training, mate,' James clapped him on the back after dinner. 'Even Moody was complaining about the smell today and he's got only half a nose.'

Sirius hummed distractedly. 'About that…I don't suppose you could spare me a towel and some clean clothes.'

* * *

Sirius leaned back with a groan, the warmth of the water seeping into his sore muscles and rickety joints. He had nearly forgotten how brilliant it was to have a hot bath and he settled back against the cold ceramic, head falling to rest at the edge. While admittedly a little girly, Sirius could not deny that Lily's well kept bathroom beat Sirius's by a far stretch. For one, the hot water didn't look green. Also, the perks of living with a woman guaranteed that everything had a pleasantly flowery scent to it. It almost made Sirius rethink his preferences, until he found himself pouring large amount of orange scented bubble bath under the taps and realised how much of a fruit he was.

'Merlin, this feels good,' Sirius muttered to himself, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt all his lethargy and exhaustion catch up to him in a rush. The rigorous training, the War that he constant tried to ignore ( _ignore, ignore, ignore and it will disappear just like little Reggie did)._ Sirius felt so tired of everything around him; so fed up of how hard it was to even just to wake up in the mornings. Even now, every time Sirius tried to force his eyes open, he saw black spots flashing haphazardly across his vision. The more he blinked, the more they spread, like an epidemic of blindness across his eyelids. He should be panicking, was Sirius's first thought. If he was going blind, then he should be scared out of his mind. But for some reason, Sirius found himself too tired to.

So he closed his eyes.

Opened them.

Closed his eyes yet again.

And opened them.

Closed his eyes.

_Opened them, only to see a pair of bright amber eyes staring back at him from within the darkness._

_Sirius jumped, trying to push back and found himself underwater, his screams of panic bursting out in silent bubbles. Don't breathe! Don't breathe or you'll die! He pushed against the surface, only to find it barricaded by the same thin glass that featured in all his dreams. It was hard, like steel, and made a dull clunking noise every time pushed against it, his hands banging a desperate Morse Code for help. He was like a fly, trapped inside, bumping against the glass again and again despite the pain it caused. His eyes stung, as he forced them to stay open; forced them to see beyond the glass where the amber eyes still stared back at him in what appeared to be confusion. It was almost as if the man behind the glass could not fathom Sirius's struggles, could not see his face paling from the lack of air, or the ways his hair floated and limped against the waves his body caused._

' _You can breathe,' a voice whispered._

_Sirius stopped struggling when he realised that he could. His hands immediately went to his neck, searching for any signs of gills. There were none. But there was no water rushing into his lungs; only the slight sting of chlorine in his eyes._

' _Why are you here?' Sirius asked. His vocal chords made no noise, but the shine behind those amber eyes told Sirius that he had been understood nonetheless. 'Tell me why you're here?'_

' _I have nowhere else to go,' he replied, sounding almost sad. A forehead rested against the surface of the glass and Sirius could, for the first time, see defined features: the curved lines in the middle of his forehead, the thin bridge of his nose, and wispy strands of light brown hair. The voice sounded clearer than in Sirius's other dreams, as if it possessed more strength than before. It was a soft sort of voice; the kind that was deafening in its serenity; raspy from disuse._

' _Am I dying?' Sirius asked, pushing closer, until his forehead touched the glass, parallel to the one outside. Just like before, he felt the comfortable warmth of skin._

_There was a laugh, small and a little condescending. 'No.'_

_And just like that, the glass shattered._


	2. Distinguishing Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

_Sirius stared at his feet, wondering why they were bare. He remembered putting on his shoes; distinctly remembered his socks not matching and being scolded for it by Lily. Yet here he was, grass peeking out from between his toes, tickling the delicate curves of his feet. In contrast, the bench he was sitting on was hard and rough. Sirius imagined that had he been as bare as his feet, his skin would be littered with small wooden splinters burning holes. But then, he would wake up, wouldn't he? Had he felt pain, this dream would end._

_Not too far from his feet, water rippled in gentle waves. Dimly, he wondered if this was a river or a lake, but found himself unable to look up. No matter how much he tried to lift his head, the most he managed was to roll his eyes to the top till he saw the spidery shadows of his own eyelashes. It was as if someone was holding him down by the neck, forcing him to look at nothing but the ground. Sirius hated it; hated being submissive. But unlike the last time, he tried to quell down his panic and tell himself it was an illusion. It was just a dream._

_'I always loved the Hogwarts Lake…'_

_Sirius tensed, as he felt a presence settle down on the bench, beside him. They weren't touching, but Sirius could feel the closeness of their hands and the slight brush of their thighs. It sent shivers coursing through Sirius's body and he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to compress as much as possible. Suddenly, he felt very afraid of this soft, familiar voice._

_'After class, I would sit here and dip my feet in the water until the sun went down and my skin went wrinkly. Sometimes, I skipped meals to be here.'_

_And just like that Sirius suddenly found himself staring at his feet, immersed in water. It should have felt cold, but it didn't. The temperature remained just as it had been when his feet had been on the ground. All Sirius could feel was the water rippling between his toes, forwards and backwards. It was soothing in some ways, but did nothing to quell the fear that was steadily building up within him. He was going to die. He knew this. There was no other explanation for these visions or this restraining pressure on the back of his neck. He was going to die._

_A little away from his feet, Sirius saw what were the beginnings of glass forming, block by block. It rose from the bottom of the water, looking almost crystalline in appearance and filling in the air between him and "the presence". Light seemed to trap itself within each crystal, spinning an array of colours before escaping to leave nothing but transparency. The glass was almost at Sirius's knees now._

_'You're not dying,' the voice said softly._

_'Don't lie,' Sirius replied hoarsely. He wanted to look up. He wanted to see look at those amber eyes and ask why. Why was he here?_

_'You're not dying, Sirius.'_

_'Don't lie!' Sirius screamed, hands clenching to fists. 'Don't lie to me! Why am I here if I'm not dying? Why are you here, stopping me from even looking up?'_

_'No one is stopping you from looking up but yourself,' the voice replied harshly. 'Your fear is what is keeping your head down, just as it is building this barrier between us. The only reason it is transparent is because your curiosity interferes. You **want**  to see me.'_

_Frustration built up behind his eyelids. 'Why are you here? If not to kill me, then why are you here?'_

_'I wanted to see you.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Because I love you.'_

_Sirius bit his lip, watching as the glass barrier that had been forming between them retreated, block by block; as if someone were simply picking off the pieces from a puzzle. He tried lifting his head, but found himself still trapped under the force on the back of his head. He couldn't budge, so he stared at the feet dipped in water beside his. They were pale; so pale that they looked made of pure light. 'What's your name?'_

_'Moony,' the voice answered and Sirius could hear the smile in his voice. 'You can call me Moony.'_

_The pressure on his head loosened and just like that, Sirius knew he could look up. Yet, he kept his head down, wondering if he should. He wanted to; so, so badly, but he also knew that if he did, things would change. He didn't know how they would change or why, but he knew the fear and the resistance that his instincts put up. He found himself curling into a protective ball, his forehead touching his knees and his arms wrapping around his body tightly. He was still afraid. He didn't remember ever being so much of a coward._

_A warm hand lay on his back and just like that, as if a coiled spring, Sirius's head jerked up. He would finally have a face to the voice that haunted hi-_

* * *

'Ow! What the fuck, Lily!' Sirius rubbed his stinging cheek and glared at Lily Potter. She was standing over him, her hands on both sides of her waist. From his position on the waiting bench, Sirius couldn't really see anything past her voluptuous chest, except for her fiery red hair, freckly cheeks and button nose, and bright green eyes.

She looked worried. 'I've been calling you for the past ten minutes now! Are you all right?'

Sirius blinked and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't even realised when he'd dozed off and just like after every nap he took, he felt even more exhausted that when he'd begun. Still, he put up a fake, reassuring grin to keep from Lily worrying. 'Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night.' His eyes drooped on their own accord and he fought to keep them open. A sense of disappointment was slowly filling within him, though, in his haze, he couldn't quite figure out why. His dream had been interrupted, this much he knew.

Sirius also knew that he had never felt more at loss as he did now.

'Sirius,' Lily brushed his hair out of his eyes, her hand resting on his forehead as if checking for a fever. 'I'm really worried about you.'

Sirius pushed her hand away, fixing his hair so that fell into his eyes again. 'Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine.' He tried smiling at her again, but found that he was honestly too tired to even lift the corners of his mouth into a gesture as simple. He wanted a bed. No, he only needed an excuse to close his eyes again. 'What did the results say?' He asked and even to his own ears, his words sounded mumbled and far away.

'Nothing,' Lily sighed, sitting down close to him and letting him rest his head against her shoulder. He could already feel himself drifting back to sleep. 'The results are normal. There isn't a single thing wrong with you.' She sniffed and Sirius realised with a jolt of surprise that she was crying. 'Sorry,' she laughed weakly, wiping her eyes. 'Bloody hormones. Here, take this,' she handed him a small vial filled with grey liquid, 'Pepper-Up Potion.'

Sirius downed it in a single gulp, wiping his mouth afterwards. There was a part of him that was pleased with Lily's worried tears, but a large part of him that mostly felt queasy. They had come a long way from school, when Sirius would accuse her of stealing James away and turning him into a boring, law abiding citizen. She loved Sirius now; more than Sirius's family had ever done. 'You shouldn't worry,' Sirius assured her, handing back the vial with the refreshing feeling of finally being awake. His eyes still stung. 'I just need to get some sleep and I'll be fine. I must be doing something wrong. I'll buy a new mattress or something tomorrow, I promise.'

She hummed, but not from the loss of words. Sirius could see her desperately trying to control the onslaught of tears that were pooling at the corner of her eyes. She swallowed thickly, her lips smacking noisily as she opened them to speak again, 'Stay over tonight, Sirius. I'll prepare the spare bedroom for you.'

'Lily-'

'It wasn't a request, Sirius,' Lily cut in sternly. 'If something happens, at least I'll have the peace of mind knowing that we're close by. I thought you were just being a slob, but you've been looking progressively worse by the hour. You even have James worried.' Lily grabbed both his hands, squeezing them between hers. 'I Floo'ed James and asked him to report a sick day for you. No buts!' She scolded when Sirius opened his mouth to argue. 'Pepper-Up will last you until we get home and have lunch. Then you're going to sleep. I'm done for the day, so I'll be there if you need anything at all.'

'Lily, you know there isn't any-'

'Shut up, Black,' she chastised, though her voice lacked any contempt. She pulled him up forcefully, dragging him to the second floor and not accepting any more protests as they Floo'ed to the Potter residence. Upon arriving, she insistently pushed him to the bathroom to clean up, while he was still coughing and covered in soot. There was no arguing with Lily, pregnant or otherwise, so Sirius resigned himself to obey her every whim, thanking all the deities that he was not straight and most of all, he was not James Potter. He dutifully changed into James's clothes, cringing as the shirt ended up too short and above his navel, making him look like a cheap porn star. He didn't complain, as Lily shoveled food onto his plate like she was trying to recreate Mount Everest, nor did he say a word when she insisted that they watch trashy telly while sipping tea that tasted oddly bitter.

'James and I aren't going to be home this evening,' Lily informed him. 'We'll be back in a few hours, but if you need anything, send a Patronus. Nothing else.'

Sirius snorted in disgust, but said nothing more. It wasn't his place to argue, but Lily didn't fail to notice the hate that burned in his eyes.

'I wish you'd join,' she said wistfully, her eyes sparkling green as she looked at him. 'Peter asks about you sometimes. And you know, we're helping people, Sirius. We're making a difference. It would give you the chance to-'

'I'm doing my share through the Ministry, thanks,' Sirius replied harshly. He gulped down the last of his tea, wincing a little when it burned down his throat. The Order: Sirius would rather die than join them. They weren't helping anyone. They weren't a resistance. They were just flies stirring up annoyances; pawns playing an elaborate game between Voldemort and Dumbledore that they didn't even try to understand. Such was the power of Dumbledore; he killed with kindness. The twinkle in his blue eyes were enough to have people like James and Lily fall into gullibility, and turn a blind eye to reality. Sirius had once almost been in that position, but not again. Never again.

'There is a lot that the Ministry doesn't know.'

'There is a lot the Order doesn't know,' Sirius retorted, shaking his head. He felt woozy. There was still time for the Pepper-Up to wear off, so he didn't understand why he felt exhausted all of a sudden. 'There is a lot that's being kept from you while you willingly put your lives in danger. Not just yours, but my godson's, as well.' He blinked, trying to focus on her reddening face. He didn't let her defend herself, speaking almost immediately. 'Where was the Order when the Potters were killed in their own homes? Where were they when Regulus needed help; when he desperately wanted to get out? He was on a mission from the Order, so where were they? What about the Prewetts? Did Molly want to lose her brothers so willingly to a scuffle in the park?'

'The Prewetts died fighting for what they believed in and so did your brother,' Lily replied coldly. 'We're not Gods, Sirius, we don't promise to know everything, but we are trying to help. Regulus was…'

There was more Sirius wanted to say; so much more. He wanted to tell her about Regulus; how every aspect of his brother's life had been controlled; first by their parents, then Voldemort, and then Dumbledore. Stupid, stupid Regulus, who always cried over the smallest things when he was young. Had he honestly believed he could save the world; be a hero? He was only seventeen and Dumbledore had sent him out for a mission where there was no other ending but death, his body floating now among the Inferi. Regulus hadn't wanted to die. Regulus had never wanted to die. Like Sirius, he had simply wanted to be free…

_The minute he'd felt hot breath against his cheek, Sirius knew that he was no longer with Lily. He knew, yet he kept his eyes closed, feeling the anticipation build within him and spread like smoke from a raging fire. The prospect of being able to see more than the amber eyes and bright lights, that he had become so accustomed to, had his hands shaking. A thin hand closed around his, stilling the nerves but jumbling Sirius's emotions to a confused mess. He didn't know how to feel, so instead he focused on the hands that held him: the calloused thumb that rubbed slow circles across the back of his hand. The hand felt fragile against his – almost bird-like – yet it was large, undoubtedly a man's. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, Sirius had thought the glass between them had been thin and almost real. Now, feeling the warmth of the hand in his and the comforting weight of it; Sirius felt that the glass had been exactly that – a thick barrier of fear._

_'You're not dying,' the voice whispered so close, that Sirius could feel the tingling on his cheek which ached to feel lips upon them. 'You're not dying, I promise…'_

_Sirius laughed softly. 'I believe you,' saying so, he opened his eyes and felt his breath hitch. 'Moony…'_

_The name seemed almost comical when compared to the man before him. He was, for the lack of a better word, beautiful. No, that wasn't true. He was beautiful **to** **Sirius.** He didn't look much different from the light in Sirius's past dreams; his skin was so pale that it looked as if it glowed, Sirius felt, almost iridescently. Disturbingly large amber eyes peeked through strands of messy brown hair, thin red lips open in unashamed awe as Sirius finally reached out to touch him._

_**Real** , Sirius realised as he ran a single finger down the outline of Moony's crooked nose. It looked like it had suffered a break multiple times and badly healed._

_'Where are we?' Sirius asked, letting his hand fall to the bed again. He pretended not to notice as Moony shifted closer to him on the bed while moving to sit up, his thighs now touching the side of Sirius's hips._

_'My parents' home in Somerset.'_

_Sirius immediately sat up, drawing the dark green sheets towards him. Suddenly, he felt guilty; as if in danger of being caught with a lover. He looked around, taking in the bare white walls and sparse furniture. There was nothing in the room that indicated a person living here. Apart from the bed, there was only a small bookshelf that held a handful of books and a built in cupboard that lay empty before them. 'Are they here?'_

_Moony laughed. 'No.'_

_'Oh,' Sirius relaxed. 'I'm sorry.'_

_'They're alive in the real world.'_

_Sirius frowned. 'But this is real…I think.'_

_Moony shook his head and explained with a kind smile. 'This is only where I want to be.'_

_'Why aren't you?' Sirius asked, feeling his curiosity rule over his insensitivity. If all this was fake, then why bother with niceties? 'You told me you had nowhere to go, yet if your parents are alive, then you clearly have a home. Why not go to them? Why come to me?'_

_Moony chuckled bitterly. 'Because it will hurt to see them more than it does to see you.'_

_'Do you always talk in riddles?' Sirius snapped. He chanced a look out the window and noticed that there was nothing there. No view: no grass, no sky, no sunlight pouring in; only pitch darkness. Moony had probably not remembered this aspect of the house, he realised, which was probably why it was hollow. Just the idea felt strangely eerie._

_'My parents don't remember me,' Moony shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but his amber eyes shone brighter than normal. 'My mother is a muggle, so I was scared for their safety. When I turned eighteen, I drugged them, sneaked in to their bedroom at night, and erased every memory they had of me. It took me hours to reconstruct new memories. I couldn't make mistakes or leave any gaps. I had a few…acquaintances in the Ministry who helped me change names and records. I moved them to a new house and a new life.' Moony pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and then looked towards the window. His eyes widened, only just realising the dark chasm that lay beyond. Sirius only had to watch in awe as the darkness fell away in streams, like rain, giving birth to a garden and another house not far from theirs. 'This is the house I chose for them,' he continued, looking away from the window as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 'I slipped up; I chose a house with an extra room, where I would sleep when I came back.'_

_Sirius swallowed thickly, suddenly understanding why this room was kept so sparse. It was only stored with what Moony could afford to leave behind, in the hopes that he would not completely be forgotten. Suddenly, Sirius found himself getting up and drifting towards the bookshelf, wanting to know more; wanting to know what kind of person Moony was and the books he read._

_'I was so stupid,' Sirius heard Moony whisper. 'I thought the war would be over soon. I had this dream where I would come back home and despite all the obliviated memories, they would still recognise me as their son.'_

_Sirius didn't know what to say. He had never been very good at comforting people. So he stood there, his back turned to Moony, pretending to read the title of each book with intense concentration: Hitchhiker's Guide, Magical Beasts, Gravity's Rainbow, The Shining, Werewolves and Wizards…_

_'My parents,' Sirius licked his dry lips nervously, 'were racist bigots. Unbearable mostly, so when I was sixteen, I-'_

_'Ran away,' Moony finished, making Sirius's head turn in surprise. 'I know…'_

_**How** , was what Sirius wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, Moony broke into a fit of violent coughs. His thin body shook from the force of them and he held on to the bed sheets for support, his eyes clenched so tight that tears pooled at the corners. With horror, Sirius watched as droplets of blood, red as rubies, stained the sheets steadily. But the blood wasn't what frightened Sirius; it was the darkness. The darkness that was spreading across Moony's body like pox: in small ringlets that peppered his hands and spread up to his face. It was just like the window which had been shrouded by a black chasm, only this time it was Moony whose colour was being sucked into the black holes that ran across his skin._

_Sirius felt bile rise up in his throat._

_The barrier between them was forming again, crystalline beads forming from the points of Sirius's feet at a rapid pace. He found himself moving backwards till his back was pressed hard against the shelf. Several books fell to the ground, one of them bouncing off the glass wall that had now risen up to Sirius's chin. It was filling up in concentric circles now, almost as if mimicking the shape of Sirius's face. By the time, Moony was able to open his eyes through the coughing, the space between them had closed and Sirius now saw him through the glass as only a smattering of colour on black canvas. His eyes were the only parts of his body that remained untainted, and they looked terrified. He was saying something, but Sirius couldn't hear it through the ringing in his own ears. He couldn't see beyond the splatters of blood on the other side that had somehow morphed into large puddles of red that slowly monopolised his vision._

_His closed his eyes, heart beating at a furious rate, hoping this dream would end. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to **wake** **up**._

'Shhh, it's okay. It's alright, love, just let it out.' Gentle hands held his hair back as he retched into thebin. His throat burned painfully and his eyes stung, as he gasped for air before further emptying out his lunch. Lily's voice continually murmured soothing words in his ears, rubbing his back in circles. 'It's okay, Sirius. We're here. _'_

'Here,' James kneeled down in front of Sirius, handing him a glass of water once he was done. When Sirius's hands shook too much to hold it in place, James pushed the glass to Sirius's lips, keeping a hand behind his head for support as Sirius greedily gulped the water. Once he was done, he pressed the cool glass against his forehead, breathing shakily from the relief it brought. There were tremors still riding through his body, though now it was mostly from the chill that was seeping into his bones from cooling sweat.

 _Real_ , Sirius prayed fervently,  _please_ _let_ _this_ _be_ _real._ _Please,_ _please,_ _please,_ _let_ _this_ _be_ _real._ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _to_ _go_ _back._ He looked out the window and breathed a sigh of relief when he was met by the view of stars littering the sky and the moon gazing back, bright and round. It would be a full moon tomorrow. _It's_ _real._ _James_ _and_ _Lily_ _are_ _real._

Lily, who looked close to tears and James, who looked equally shaken: they were real.

'I thought you gave him the potion, Lily,' James whispered, moving the bin away. 'He was supposed to have a dreamless sleep, so why-'

Sirius gulped. It meant nothing. Lily had probably not put the right dosage, despite being an experienced Healer. The potion had probably worn off in between and the dreams had come back with a vengeance. This was real. James and Lily were real. This world was real; not a fabrication nor a memory of a house that didn't belong to him. He was real.

'Sirius, you're soaked,' Lily said unsteadily, almost as if trying to change the topic. She didn't look him in the eye, as James helped him get up on his shaky knees and helped him up to the bed again. 'Take this one off and I'll get you a spare. You'll catch a cold otherwise.' She reached out her hand, as Sirius complied, only to have the shirt fall to the ground as her hand retracted with a gasp. 'What's that? Sirius, did you get hurt?' She cried, touching his back with cold hands. Sirius winced in pain when she pressed against the space between his shoulder blades. 'This wasn't there in the morning! Sirius, when did this happen?'

Sirius stretched his neck to look back, taking in the horizontal lines that ran across his shoulder blades – dark purple from bruising. There was another line parallel to it on his lower back. Sirius frowned. 'I don't know. I don't remember getting them. I d-' Sirius found his stomach churning unpleasantly again, as flashes of the bookshelf came to mind. He had been pressed tightly against it when Moony had started to-

This time, Sirius retched nothing but bile and water.

 **Real.**  All of it had been real…


	3. Chasing Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

'Sirius!  _Sirius!_ ' Sirius blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and looking up James, who was peering at him from behind owlish glasses. 'You still in there, mate?' James asked, knocking on his forehead. 'Moody's briefing is over,  _finally_. Bloody five in the morning, but we can go home now.'

Sirius hummed, getting up and watching as all the Aurors shuffled out of the room. Most of them were groaning, cracking their shoulders and complaining about all the missions they'd been sent to over the span of nine hours. There were some who were only going to start their shift, carrying on till sunset before they were replaced by another group of Aurors that Sirius and James were a part of as of today until the end of the month: the night shift. Sirius dreaded the night shift. There was a time when the night shift had meant snoozing in the office while listening to the Wizarding Wireless, but with the war brewing, this was no longer an option.

Security was tightening everywhere, curfews getting stricter and Auror training getting shorter and much more intensive. Back in Hogwarts, Sirius had heard horror stories about Auror Academy, where two years of discipline, shaved heads, and thorough training would produce only a handful of well trained wizards fit for the job. They had had a high turnover rate; they still did, but the Ministry was starting to be less picky. Sirius had gotten his job in a span of six intense months, with a full head of hair and a salary higher than probably the Minister of Magic himself. It was a fair deal: a good life in exchange for a shorter one.

'The Dreamless Sleep finally working then?' James asked, clapping him in the back. 'You're starting to look better, to the say the least.'

'Suppose so,' Sirius replied non-committaly. In truth, Sirius hadn't so much as touched the generously large bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion that Lily had given him. He hadn't had the need to. After his horrific episode at the Potters, the dreams (if he could call them that anymore) had quite conveniently stopped. It had been four days since then, and just like his bruises, Sirius's initial fear was fading. All he was left with now was curiousity.

'Lily's relieved, you know,' James commented, pulling off his Auror robes and shrugging on his jacket over muggle clothes. 'You gave her quite the scare that night.'

'Sorry,' Sirius apologised, though a part of him wanted to say that he had been scared, too: of Moony, of how solid everything had felt under his hands, of being insignificant and dying insignificant. He had been on the edge of reason back then; convinced that none of it was real despite the feeling that it was. It _was_ real. He knew this now, despite James assuring him that he had been in bed the entire time. It was  _real. Moony_  had been real andSirius was going to prove it. 'Listen, mate, you head on home alone tonight. I've got this report to finish. I've been putting it off for a while now and you know how Moody gets about these things.'

James patted him on the back sympathetically. 'Be careful. Don't go home until the sun is well up.' Another protocol that the Ministry had introduced: always go out in pairs especially after sun down. It didn't matter if you were civilians or Aurors; it was a safety requirement. One that, while Sirius appreciated, often made him feel like a child who still had to hold his big brother's hand to cross the road. Then again, look what had happened to Regulus (the stupid bastard) when he'd let Sirius's hand go…

Sirius nodded, about to go back to his office when he stopped and asked, 'Do you remember where Civil Affairs is? I need their records as reference material,' he explained quickly when James shot him a questioning look. 'Lineage tracking and what not; makes targeting the Death Eaters easier.'

'Fourth floor, left, I think,' James replied, a hint of suspicion still lingering in his eyes. 'Haven't been there since my marriage, but don't think much has changed. Keep away from Gertrude; she jumps anything with a dick.'

Sirius grinned. 'Ta, mate. See you tomorrow then. I might be mooching lunch off you.' He waved goodbye and quickly headed for the stairs. He could have joined James in the lift, but Sirius didn't trust his best friend. James was one of the smartest blokes Sirius knew, and time, even as little as travelling seven floors down, would lead to questions which would wheedle out to answers that Sirius wasn't quite ready to give yet. Not until he'd figured things out for himself. For the first time in his life, Sirius was keeping secrets from James and it was with good reason: he simply didn't want to seem like a lunatic.

'Hello, Gertrude, I was wondering if you could help me out a little.' Sirius winked and flashed the woman at the desk a charming smile. Just like James had warned, she was the kind that tried too hard and quite possibly, got nothing in return. Her hair was too puffed up, hair sprayed to the point where it could have struck Sirius on the head and knocked him unconscious. Her electric blue eye shadow and fire truck red lips clashed horribly with her yellow blouse that was so sheer, Sirius could even the read the label on her brassiere.

She pulled down her blouse purposefully low, as she leaned forward to talk to him. 'Anything for you handsome,' she replied suggestively, 'you name it.'

'Well, I was actually looking for any name changes that have been done from say, nineteen-seventy to the present.' Sirius hoped that his assumptions about Moony's age were accurate; the man hadn't seemed much older than Sirius, but he'd taken precautions regardless. He also remembered Moony mentioning that he had had acquaintances in the Ministry. Was it possible to get such records removed? They weren't considered very important; strings could have been pulled. 'Also, I'd like a record of any witches…no,' Moony had mentioned his mother was a muggle. 'Just wizards. Wizards in Somerset, same year range.'

Gertrude raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, crossing her leg so that her short skirt hiked up several inches. Sirius almost gagged. 'You have a permit for that, hon'?'

Sirius slid his Auror badge on the table, trying his best to look authoritative. He wondered if he was losing his touch; back in Hogwarts, all it took was a smile and a wink, and Sirius was handed whatever he wanted on a silver platter. 'It's a private investigation,' he whispered conspiratorially, coming closer to her ear and purposely breathing down her neck. He grinned when she shivered. 'We're looking at a possible murder suspect here, even a lead to the Death Eaters. But you didn't hear this from me, all right?'

Gertrude's eyelashes fluttered and she nodded dumbly. 'Give me a minute,' she whispered. She was blushing bright red as she got up from her chair, sending him a look that she probably thought was very seductive but came off as slightly constipated as she disappeared into the file room.

Sirius had a feeling she wanted him to join her in there. His suspicion was confirmed, when she returned looking slightly disgruntled and shoved a box full of files into his hands. 'You need to sign a form is you want to take these records out. Or,' she sang the last word, her face hopeful again and her cleavage bouncing, 'you can stay here. We have a  _very_   _empty_  library that you can use.'

'Sounds wonderful, but I'm in such a hurry.' Sirius faked a disappointed face. 'Maybe some other time?' He pushed the hair out of his eyes, smiling brightly and quickly signing the form that she handed him. 'You've got my name now, so Floo me anytime you like.' He winked at her as she read his name off the form, picking up his box and hurrying off before she decided to take off her blouse entirely.

'Goodbye, James Potter! I'll call you!' She called out and Sirius had to wait until the elevator doors closed before he burst out laughing.

* * *

Sirius didn't know what he expected to get out of apparating all the way to Somerset. He hadn't really scored any leads with name changes; just as he'd predicted, the records had been erased or very conveniently omitted. The past ten years had seen wizards and witches, quite content with their given names. Disappointed by his lack of findings, Sirius had sat for hours on an end pouring through the list of wizards living in the small county, looking for a change in patterns and name additions. Unsurprisingly, Sirius had found thirty wizards who had very possibly been born to or migrated to the smaller towns of Somerset. The war had centered more towards the big cities, leaving smaller counties, like Somerset, to become a safe haven for families and men who did not have the balls to fight. So far, Sirius had ticked down twenty-two of them in various parts of the county, and none of them had had what he was looking for.

Probably the biggest issue was that Sirius had no idea what he was looking for. Perhaps a woman with amber eyes or a man with light brown hair, or even a signboard that said that they'd lost their son, who had an uncanny ability to haunt other people's dreams. He was basing his entire search on something as trivially small as facial similarities. As a trained Auror, Sirius knew it was a lost cause; as a human being, Sirius's instincts told him to have hope. Moony was real, Sirius  _knew_ this. The knowledge and conviction was ingrained in him; he just had to prove himself right.

'Excuse me, do I know you?'

Sirius startled out of his thoughts and blinked up at the man peering curiously down at him. His wife and teenage daughter were staring warily at him from afar. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a build that was a little too bulky to be a part of Moony's family; which crossed Sirius's list down to seven remaining leads. 'I'm thinking of moving in nearby,' Sirius replied, pushing his sunglasses to his head and smiling in what he hoped was a sincere manner. 'So I was just looking around, scouting the place and what not. I hope I wasn't causing anyone any trouble.'

The man's face relaxed considerably and Sirius noticed that the hand in his pocket, where he was probably hiding his wand, loosened. Even in the small town of Axbridge, times were dark. 'You'll like it here,' he smiled warmly, 'it's a good place to raise children: quiet, very basic, and a good deal away from city pandemonium.'

Sirius hummed. To be honest, he rather liked "city pandemonium". It kept life busy, it gave him purpose; and it kept him from feeling the burgeoning loneliness at night as he realised that despite dark times when life could get cut short any moment, he was very much alone. Sirius had been born and raised in the city; the green sickened him. All morning, he had been subjected to an endless view of hills, sheep, and an air that was so pure that it stung his nose. 'Thank you. I think I might consider it,' Sirius replied politely. 'Good day.'

Sirius sighed heavily, taking out his list once he was well out of view. This was starting to feel utterly ridiculous. He was supposed to be asleep now in the comfort of his own bed, resting up for what was definitely going to be a long night of missions. Yet, a traitorous part of him – a stupid part of him – reminded him that his sleep had been  _too_  peaceful these past few days. It worried him; not the fact that Moony didn't come to him anymore the minute his eyes closed, but his sanity. What other explanation could he possibly have for chasing a  _dream_  but insanity?

Suddenly a shrill scream pierced the air, causing Sirius to run towards a mini-van on the other side of the road, wand clenched tightly in his pocket and adrenaline pumping through his veins. There was the sound of a baby crying and Sirius quickened his pace, rounding to the back of a van and finding a woman desperately trying to put out the fire that was spreading across her arm. On instinct, Sirius tugged her jacket off, throwing it to the ground and stomping it until the last of the embers had died down. The baby was still crying from within the car, only matched by his mother's pained sobbing. Her arm had suffered minor burns.

'Are you all right?' Sirius asked, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. 'You should probably get those burns looked at.'

The woman wiped her eyes and smiled weakly. "I'm fine. I have some ointment inside that'll heal this in a flash. Thank you very much.'

Sirius nodded. 'You should be more careful,' he said softly, eyeing the burnt ends of her light brown hair. It was a pity for muggles like her, who didn't even have the ability to douse a fire. 'Is your baby all right?' He asked, already taking the initiative and climbing inside the van. The baby stopped crying the same time Sirius stopped breathing. Large amber eyes peered curiously at him from beneath untidy tufts of thin, light brown hair. His pale skin was flushed pink from crying, but the toothless smile that he broke into as Sirius moved in for a closer look was unmistakable. The resemblances were uncanny. 'You have a beautiful son,' Sirius commented, his throat feeling suddenly dry as he unstrapped the child and pulled him into his arms. The child wriggled playfully, fisting Sirius's black hair and tugging it with a childish chuckle.

'Thank you,' the woman smiled gratefully, as Sirius offered to help carry her child inside, along with the bag of groceries that had fallen to the ground. 'I'm sorry; you saved my life and I haven't even asked you for your name yet. I'm Patricia Wolfe, but you can call me Patty. Would you like some tea?'

Sirius nodded numbly, barely keeping his eyes from roaming as he took in every inch of the house. A part of him wanted to confirm his findings; he wanted to find the room that Remus had shown him, bookshelf and a small bed. 'Sirius; my name is Sirius Black. You have a beautiful home, Patty.' He winced when the baby in his arms tugged his hair again, promptly stuffing it into his mouth.

'Moony, no!' Patricia scolded and Sirius jerked in surprise as the tea cups she'd placed on the table immediately shattered to pieces. The child had started crying again. 'I'm so sorry,' Patricia cried, quickly moving to clean up the pieces. She looked close to tears again. 'I don't know what's been happening off late. I know it sounds stupid, but I swear, it's as if Moony's causing it. Every time he cries, something happens. Even now, in the car…' She laughed weakly and shook her head, as if dispelling such thoughts. 'You must think I'm utterly crazy. My husband keeps laughing at me, saying our baby must be  _magic._ Honestly…'

Sirius stared at the child in his arms, rocking him back and forth to keep him from crying. Surely they knew that their child  _was_ magic. Moony had mentioned that only his mother had been muggle; his father had to have been a wizard. Unless…unless he'd changed those memories. Unless they were now living as muggles, experiencing random outbursts of magic, but still none the wiser. It would explain why they hadn't been on Sirius's list of leads. 'It's an odd name to give a child: Moony,' he commented, sitting down when the baby had finally quieted down. The child seemed to have taken a bit of liking to Sirius and smiled up at him, all gums and drool every time Sirius bounced him on his lap.

Patricia laughed and shook her head. 'It's just a nickname. People keep asking why we call him that and we honestly don't know; it somehow just caught on. His real name's Romulus.'

 _Romulus._  Sirius did not mention that even Romulus was quite an odd name for a child. Romulus  _Wolfe_  sounded almost like a mythical joke.

'You're not from around here, are you?' She asked, handing him a steaming mug of tea and sitting down on the chair opposite. Sirius noticed that there was four of everything in the kitchen: four mugs, four plates, four chairs, four glasses; he wondered if it was unconscious. 'You've got a very city air about you and everyone in Axbridge knows everyone, being a small place and all.'

'No, I haven't been here for a while,' he lied, trying not to grimace as bitter tea slid down his throat. 'I grew up in this very house actually and I suppose I came back to reminisce. It hasn't changed much,' Sirius added. He wondered if he should feel guilty about lying so blatantly about his true intentions, but currently, all he could think about was how to get to Moony's bedroom. 'Do you mind if I looked around? I don't want to make you uncomfortable,' he put in quickly, seeing her hesitation. 'It's just…it would be brilliant if I could see my old room again.'

Patricia nodded, getting up and leading the way upstairs. Sirius's eyes roamed from mad curiosity, taking in their homely furniture, the olive green carpeting, and the rows of pictures on the wall. Perhaps it was just him searching for clues, but even in their pictures together there seemed to be a gap, as if waiting to be filled in by someone – another member of the family.

'That's my husband, John,' she pointed out at one of the family pictures hung on the wall.

Again, Sirius was taken aback by the striking similarities. While the father's skin had a healthy tan to compliment his darker hair, the eyes were unmistakable. They were the same shade of amber that had gazed at Sirius night after night, filled with such a swirling range of emotion that was almost overwhelming. The square jaw line, slightly crooked nose, also the simple arch of his eyebrows; even the uncontrolled magic and the "unexplainable" naming of their son: everything led to Moony.

The last pieces of the puzzle finally fit together as Sirius walked into the last bedroom down the hall. It had been converted to a baby room; the bed had been replaced by a baby crib, the cupboard had been filled with clothes, and the empty spaces had been given life to by scattered toys and haphazard furniture. Yet, the bookcase still remained in the corner, the first shelf holding the same books Sirius remembered running his hands over. The window outside revealed a house not too far from theirs and a small, cared for garden.

Sirius fell to his knees, hand over his mouth.

'Oh! Are you all right?'

Sirius nodded numbly. He discovered right that very minute that knowing something to be true and having the evidence in front of your face were two very different things. Now, he realised, there was no turning back.

* * *

'Hello, Sirius.'

'Holy Mother of Merlin!' Sirius shouted, stumbling from shock and falling backwards on to his arse. 'How the hell did you get in?'

James raised an eyebrow as Sirius got up, rubbing his bottom sorely. 'Haven't gotten that old, mate; I can still break an entry once in a while.' He tapped his feet impatiently, waiting until Sirius had securely locked the door to his apartment before he spoke again. 'You know, Sirius, you are fucking transparent and the worst bloody liar I've ever met.'

'Oh?' Sirius looked at his best friend, unconcerned. It wasn't as if Sirius hadn't known that James would figure his secret out eventually; he hadn't been trying very hard to keep it. All Sirius had wanted was a head start. 'Would you like some tea while I think of a few more alibis?'

'Baking a fucking cake wouldn't give you enough alibis, so just sit the fuck down and tell me what's in Somerset and why is Gertrude Floo-ing my house and asking me what colour underwear I'm wearing. Do you know what Lily did when she found out?' He pointed at his wrist, which was playing host to rather large and grotesque boils. 'And that's not the worst part. Look at this.' He popped one of them, causing rainbow coloured pus to ooze out and stain his hand. 'This was all over my body, Sirius, even my fucking dick. Do you know what that's like? Do you have any idea of the trauma that a man has to go through when his dick is covered with rainbow boils?'

Sirius yawned. He hadn't had any sleep since yesterday and the exhaustion of both the night shift and a whole morning's worth of fruitless research was finally catching up to him. After his visit to Somerset, Sirius had pursued the Wolfe family history with renewed vigour. For the next three days, he'd gone through muggle and magical records for any hint or clue that would point out to their old names or locations, or even any kind of family history. He'd come up with nothing, but a rising suspicion that Moony hadn't been alone in all this. Whatever "acquaintances" he'd had were thorough and had considerable power over both governments. If not, then at least, a good amount of insight. 'Are we getting anywhere with this?'

'What's in Somerset?' James asked bluntly.

Sirius shrugged. 'I needed a few questions answered and so I did a bit of investigative research. Didn't think it was a crime…' Sirius plopped down beside James on the couch. 'Why are you so wound up about it anyway? Well, apart from the fact that your dick suffered severe trauma…'

'Why are you requesting muggle records as well?' James ploughed on, undeterred. 'You applied for a permit to look through their civilian records; why? What are you after, Sirius?'

Sirius sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. 'Moony…'

'Your fucking dream?' James asked, disbelief etched all over his face.

'He's real. James, I found-'

'No,' James cut in firmly. 'No, no, no, Sirius. You have got to be bloody joking!  _"Moony"_ is a dream! A bad one that had you bloody retching all over my floor only a week ago; one that you have finally gotten rid of! I mean, is this one of those syndromes that crazies get: the one where you get tortured so bloody much that you fucking start to miss it when it stops or something?'

'I know how ridiculous this sounds, but I met his parents, James, and they're-'

'Met his parents?' James laughed incredulously, throwing his hands up. 'Next you're going to tell me you're getting married.'

'You're not bloody listening to me!' Sirius screamed, standing up. 'I'm trying to tell you something here and you just keep blabbering about how I've gone insane and what not!' He clenched his fists tightly. 'I haven't been taking the Dreamless potion at all because none of this is a dream! Moony is real! I can prove it if you if you-'

'Sirius, just bloody listen to yourself!' James shook him roughly by the shoulders. 'Moony isn't real.'

'He's real,' Sirius argued, shaking his head.

James gritted his teeth. 'He  _isn't_ real.'

'He's real,' Sirius repeated firmly.

'Go to bed, rest up, and clear your head. I am giving you a bloody ultimatum,' James continued, ignoring Sirius's words. 'No more early morning trysts to Merlin knows where, no more insane babblings about what's  _not_  fucking real, and no more fucking dreams. If I hear another inane word about  _Moony_ , Lily and I will move in with you and be your own personal hell, right here in this very apartment.'

Sirius didn't look James in the eyes. He wasn't going to argue; Sirius knew a lost cause when he saw it. It didn't matter if James was only trying to help; he had refused to listen to Sirius and that was enough to warrant Sirius's resentment. 'No more dreams, then,' he spat, glaring at a blank spot in the wall. Not that he'd been having any dreams to begin with. In fact, he'd been sleeping uninterrupted for nearly a week now.

James nodded, purposely turning a blind eye to Sirius's anger and tapping him on the cheek, 'No more dreams.'

* * *

_Sirius was in a black box. Yet when he tried to touch what seemed like the walls, his hands met nothing but air and endless space. There were no corners that his hand could slip into, no ceiling as far as he could reach. He didn't know what he was standing on because when he tried to level his hands with his feet, they slipped through, meeting nothing but air. It reminded him of the window outside Moony's room._

_A figure sat cross legged in the middle of it all (was there a middle when there was no beginning or end?), staring up at Sirius patiently. Perhaps he wasn't staring, but merely looking up. Sirius couldn't tell, because there were no features to tell from. This time, he was just like a smudged pastel painting – a mixture of colours running together with no clear definition of the eyes, mouth, or nose. It was as if someone had simply swiped a thumb over him._

' _Is this also where you want to be?' Sirius asked, sitting down so that they were knee to knee. He could feel heat radiating off Moony's body; too much heat, like that of a sick person. He wondered if it was odd that despite everything, he felt more relief than fear over Moony finally coming to him. There was no barrier this time, but a sense of wonderment. In fact, Sirius realised, he had begun to fear, this past week, that he would never see Moony again._

' _It's where I am,' Moony replied and his voice came out as hoarse, like someone had been scratching at his throat from inside._

' _In darkness?' Sirius asked again, hating that Moony somehow always talked in confusing riddles. 'Is it a metaphor or are you in a dark room? I can never understand you.'_

_Moony laughed but said nothing. His laughter died away quickly, his pale shoulders heaving as his breaths came out loud and erratic enough to echo in the darkness. Echo in a place with no walls._

' _I met your parents,' Sirius said quietly, when he realised Moony was not going to say anything anytime soon. 'I went to Somerset in search for them,' he elaborated. It was hard to gauge a reaction without facial expressions, Sirius realised, so he focused on hands, shoulders, even feet, and found that Moony's shoulders had tensed considerably. Was Moony scared now that Sirius had found our part of his secret? Did he think Sirius would hurt his family? 'Your mother and-'_

' _Show me,' Moony cut in through laboured breathing. 'Show me,_ _ **please…'**_

_Sirius frowned. 'How?'_

_Moony pitched forward quite suddenly and for a split second, Sirius thought he was going to be attacked until he felt a hot forehead rest against his and trembling hands on either side of his face. 'Leglimens,' he whispered and Sirius felt something in his mind pull and then overflow, images washing in front of his eyelids. The fire, the child, their conversation at the table, the bedroom with the bookshelf and then rows and endless rows of pictures rotating in a vicious circle until Sirius felt dizzy and had to pull away because of the nausea building up inside of him._

' _Whoa,' Sirius clutched his head, trying to steady himself. 'That felt…'_

' _Thank you,' Moony whispered and perhaps it was Sirius's imagination, but his voice sounded watery, as if he was stifling tears._

_Sirius suspicions were confirmed when he felt tiny droplets of water fall on the back of his hand. Wet, Sirius realised, tilting his hand to a forty five degree and watching as the drops slid to his wrist, leaving a trail of that looked much like a vein. There were no tears on Moony's face, but vertical trails of darkened skin that ran down to his chin before they fell and materialised to small puddles on the back of Sirius's hands. It looked like someone had spilled water over a pristine painting, making the colours run. Curiously, Sirius rubbed the wetness between his fingers, checking to see if they stained._

' _Are you upset?' Sirius asked, touching the side of Moony's neck and feeling feverish skin underneath his palms. Even Moony's skin felt oddly light, as if Sirius wasn't pressing hard enough._

_Moony shook his head. 'I'm happy. I'm glad they're safe and that they have a new life. I always…' he hesitated, 'I always thought they would be happier without me. Without having to take care of my illness...'_

_Sirius's hand tightened. 'If you've seen what I saw then you know it's not true. They might not remember you, but a part of them feels your loss. Even without being there, you're still living with them, somewhere inside them. They still miss you…' He moved to cup Moony's cheeks, wiping away the darkened trails with his thumb; and just for a second Sirius felt he saw Moony's teary amber eyes materialise before flickering and disappearing again. It felt odd to talk to a blank slate; someone who couldn't even look back at you while you spoke, but oddly, Sirius felt no fear. 'Is your illness why you didn't come? What is it?'_

_Moony's hands closed around his and Sirius noted that even the definition of his fingers was now fading. They were molding together to form just the shape of a hand. 'I haven't recovered fully yet…I'm weak…but I had to come…'_

' _To see me?' Sirius asked, surprised at how small he sounded._

' _To warn you,' Moony corrected and his face moved in closer to whisper, 'there is going to be an attack tomorrow or maybe tonight…I don't know…but it will be at one of the parks on the west side of the city. Muggles will be celebrating Bonfire Night…an easy target…' He breathed in shakily, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded strained as if talking was an effort. 'Tell James…'_

_James? Sirius should have asked how Moony knew James or even how he knew there was going to be an attack. He should have asked if anyone would be hurt or if Moony knew more than what he was telling. However, his jealousy got the better of him and in a moment of blind stupidity, he asked, 'why not go to him yourself? You don't need me for this…'_

_There was a chuckle in his ear. 'I wanted to see you.'_

_Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. 'Will you come back?'_

_Moony pressed his face against Sirius's cheek and though he knew it was impossible, Sirius was sure he felt soft lips against his skin. 'I promise.'_

* * *

 


	4. Past Offences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

'This is stupid,' James complained, watching people dance around the bonfire, adding useless things to burn like old clothes and pictures of past lovers. 'This is completely and utterly stupid.'

'I agree,' Sirius replied through a mouthful, 'this toffee is too sweet, even for treacle. Shame there's no effigy, though. I heard the park Moody's team is stationed in has one – mustache and all.'

'Are you sure about this, Sirius?' James asked for the fiftieth time in the past two hours. 'You're sure there's going to be an attack tonight.'

Sirius lied with a straight face for the fiftieth time, 'I'm sure.' Even though he wasn't; he had no physical evidence but his innate faith in Moony's words. 'I told you, I heard them in Knockturne Alley whispering, but I couldn't quite catch which one they were going to attack.' Lie, after lie, after lie; Sirius had never lied to James to this extent before; never about matters so serious. But he also knew that nothing would be done if Sirius told him or for that matter, anyone the truth. Who would believe that Sirius's source had been a man in a dream; a man Sirius didn't even know but who seemed to know everything about him and everyone around him. A man who was very real and was somehow starting to intrigue every one of Sirius's senses; he didn't want the accusation of Moony being only a figment of his imagination.

James frowned. 'I don't know, Sirius. Talking about something like this, even in Knockturne Alley; it's very suspicious. It feels like a trap.'

It  _could_ be a trap, Sirius realised; yet, a part of him pleaded to have faith. 'Even as a trap, the Death Eaters will appear. At least, knowing, we're more prepared and possibly larger in number, thanks to your little band members,' Sirius said the last part bitterly, only barely masking his resentment by busying himself with more toffee from James's little paper bag. The toffee was meant for Lily, who was in the midst of a monstrous appetite for all things sugar, but Sirius and James had already gone through half the bag waiting. 'The Ministry can take care of it; you didn't have to call  _them_. They're only a hindrance.'

'They're here to help, Sirius; you know this,' James replied softly, looking up at him through thick framed glasses. 'No one even knows they're here, but you, me, and Moody.' He looked to the farthest corner of the park, where Benjy Fenwick and Caradoc Dearborn were chatting away, trying to look conspicuous in mismatched muggle clothing. 'Consider them back up or just a few honest civilians looking to help, nothing more.' James didn't miss Sirius's angry glare and clenched fists. 'You know, they could have done a lot to you, just for knowing about us. By Order code, your memory should have been erased, but they put faith in you.  _Dumbledore_ put faith in you.'

'What an honour it is for me,' Sirius replied sarcastically, his face growing stonier by the moment. 'The man responsible for my brother's death has graced me with his undying  _faith._ '

'Sirius-'

'The fireworks are starting,' Sirius pointed out, as the first loud bursts of fireworks permeated the air. People were gathering closer, arms around each other to watch the bright red and gold sparks spreading across the dark sky. Two, three, four, each leaving a smoke of colour behind; the fifth was green and both Sirius and James's smiles quickly fell as it burst into a skull, a serpent slithering out of its mouth. The smoke didn't die out, even as screams rang out from the other side, startling the people in the park to a mode of panic. Amidst the confusion and scattering crowds, Sirius made out Dearborn and Fenwick, hands clutching their wands as they apparated with a quick pop.

'It's in the other park,' James whispered in a hurry, tightly clutching the Sirius's elbow as he got ready to apparate. 'The one with the fucking effigy. We should have guessed they would choose that one; more muggles, a bigger bang. Fuck!'

The minute they apparated to the site, Sirius was bowled over; his shocked eyes taking in the masses of feet running past his head. He screamed in pain when a foot landed hard on his left hand, and he quickly turned over on his side, struggling to get up between the throng of people and barely saving himself from a kick to the head. 'James!' he cried, though he knew his voice wouldn't carry over the panicked screams. 'Fuck!' He rolled over, throwing his hand out to protect himself and pushing upwards.

' _Avada Kedavra!'_

Sirius twisted, his hands tightening around his wand. The screams were heightening as the muggles realised that the spells were deadly. It was complete mayhem, muggles hanging upside down by their ankles, many dropping to the ground with surprise on their faces as the last deadly curse hit them – the colours of their celebration blurring as they ran for their lives, clutching each other in a state of fear.

' _Stupefy!'_ Sirius screamed, pushing a young boy out of the way roughly.  _'Expelliarmus!'_

In the midst of all the chaos, the effigy burned ominously, the face of the puppet clearly visible from between the flames; the ink that drew its features melting in dark streaks.

'James!' Sirius screamed, spotting a familiar head of messy hair and running towards him. 'Fuck!  _Stupefy! Diffindo! Stupefy!'_

The Death Eaters were clearly going to be outnumbered, Sirius realised, as all the Aurors and Order members that had been stationed in various areas of the city apparated with wands at ready. They would probably have the lowest number of casualties in years; everyone had come prepared for a fight, spells jerking their wands so rapidly that they looked like a continuous stream of red, blue and gold.

Moony had been right.

The only question that remained in Sirius's mind, eating away into his thoughts even as his wand moved at a brisk pace, dueling Death Eater after Death Eater, back to back with James, was why had Moony asked for James? If Moony knew as much he made out to about Sirius, then his Auror status should have qualified for this kind of information. So, why  _James_? Why was James chosen to win this small battle within such a big war?

* * *

_When Sirius opened his eyes, he was already being held tightly in Moony's arms, his cheek resting on Moony's warm shoulder and his body pressed flushed against the other man's chest. He felt a blush rise up his cheeks, but did not pull away; instead, wrapping his own arms around the thin torso. It had been so long; so long since he'd been held this way that Sirius had forgotten the warmth a simple touch had to offer. Not the fleeting man-hugs that James bestowed him nor the worried ones Lily gave him whenever he was sick or injured after a mission; this was an_ _**embrace** _ _._

' _We won,' Moony whispered against his hair and Sirius smiled, not saying anything. They were sitting on the front porch of a tiny wooden cottage, bathed in sunlight. There was a rickety rocking chair creaking back and forth in time with the soft breeze, the chimes over their head clinking together in a merry tune. Soft bursts of laughter from inside added to the orchestra, contagious and pleasant to the ears. Underneath his bare feet, Sirius could feel soft grass tickling sensitive skin and the side of Moony's own feet brushing against his._

' _How did you know?' Sirius forced himself to speak, even though all he wanted to do was enjoy the warmth of their embrace for possibly eternity. 'About the attack: how did you know?'_

_He felt Moony's breath hitch. 'I overheard them,' he replied, though Sirius could tell there was more to the statement than Moony wanted to reveal. But the stiffness in his shoulders and the way his arms were slowly starting to pull away made Sirius drop the subject and his frothing curiosity._

_Instead he tightened his arms around the other man and asked what he always did, 'Where are we?'_

_He felt Moony smile against him, his arms relaxing across Sirius's waist once again. 'The house I grew up in. When I was younger, I'd run across the grass in my birthday suit, screaming, while my mother tried to have me put some pants on. It's how I got my name: Moony.' He joined Sirius's laughter, his eyes lighting up with mirth and a certain childish innocence that Sirius couldn't help but stare at. 'Coming back home from school during the summer, I'd spend all my time on the porch, just like this. The grass would be bright green and there wouldn't be anyone for miles across from here. So I would fall asleep, sometimes on the old rocking chair, listening to my parents laughing at something on the telly.' When he felt Sirius's head turn to look inside, he laughed, 'They're not in there.'_

_Sirius pulled away. Suddenly, the laughter did not seem pleasant anymore but eerie and strangely haunting. 'What is that?' Sirius asked, suddenly noticing something underneath his dark blue t-shirt. Before Moony could pull away, Sirius grabbed him by the collar, pushing it away to reveal black-blue bruises across his neck and collarbone. 'What are these? Is someone hurting you?'_

_Moony brushed Sirius's hands away, looking adamantly at the grass as he righted his collar. 'It's nothing,' he replied harshly, again in the tone that told Sirius that it wasn't something Moony wanted to talk about; not yet._

_It didn't escape Sirius's notice that there were many more scars winding across Moony's arms and a fair few on his face. There were probably just as many bruises hidden underneath his flimsy t-shirt, but Sirius did not ask for confirmation. Not yet; there were many more important questions he wanted answered; too many, but he asked the one that had the highest priority in his mind: 'Why do you know so much about me?' He frowned when Moony looked at him curiously and rephrased his question, 'Do I know you?'_

_Moony smiled sadly. 'I wished you did.'_

' _What does that mean?' Sirius asked, confused. The laughter coming from inside suddenly came to an abrupt halt and Sirius wasn't sure if he felt relief at the ominous silence that followed. He fidgeted uncomfortably, lifting up his legs so that he now sat on the floor with his legs crossed. The hardwood pressed painfully against his tailbone, but Sirius felt he didn't care._

' _Have you slept well?' Moony asked finally, his amber eyes shining oddly – like water in a stream - in the sunlight. 'Do you have the strength to perform a wandless Leglimens?' When Sirius nodded in reply, Moony pressed their foreheads together, trembling hands moving to cup Sirius's cheeks once more. 'I-I'd like to show you…' he whispered, opening his mind to Sirius's spell, yet creating dark blinders that shielded every part of his mind but one._

_It was the memory he wanted Sirius to see…_

* * *

He is a quiet child; not by nature but by compulsion. One that has perfected the art of blending so well that he often starts to look like furniture. He has no friends; not many know of his existence, even among the teachers. He passes through as a nameless existence day after day, seeking solace in shadows and vacuums.

He sits in the library, a small corner between the shelf and the wall, staring at the parchment on his lap. It is full; possibly finished, but it isn't as if he is writing. He is merely looking, his eyes lost and his fingers idly playing with his Gryffindor tie. He pushes his hair behind his ears; it is long – shoulder length almost and hides his face even further in the shadows.

There are scars on his hands.

Loud ' _thumpthumps_ ' of hurried footfalls break the silence; followed by Madam Pince's disgruntled shushing. He looks up just as a boy round the corner, pressing his back tightly to the bookshelf he is sitting against. The shelf wobbles dangerously but the boy doesn't seem to notice, panting loudly, his dark hair fanning with each exhale. He knows this boy; everyone in school does. Sirius Black; one of the biggest mischief makers in school, along with his best friend: James Potter. The boy is beautiful in ways that is all sharp angles and regal features, and he can't help but stare. Only then does Black look at him, his eyes widening in acknowledgement. It is perhaps the first time Black has ever truly seen him.

Black looks around the bend once more, curses and says his first words to him: 'You look like a girl.'

He doesn't have time to be offended, as Black swoops down on him, pulling him into a heated kiss. He protests at first, hands scrabbling to push Black away, but the boy covers him with his body, holding both hands up by the wrists and plunging his tongue into his mouth without permission. Black sucks on his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth, nibbling and then soothing with his tongue, which boldly moves to taste the roof of his mouth, map the ridges of his teeth, and knots together with his own tongue. The kisses continue as Black pushes even closer, lips travelling down to his neck, pushing away the collar of his shirt in search of more skin.

He hears angry footfalls and reluctantly opens his eyes to see a girl, brown hair and blue eyes stare at them in shock, before running away in distress. He wants to feel sorry for her, but can't seem to think beyond Black's lips that are hungrily sucking below his collarbone and the insistent press of hips.

'She's gone,' he says and at first Black doesn't even hear him, his hands moving down his chest. 'I said, she's gone.'

Black breaks out of his daze this time, 'Oh,' he whispers, his lips flushed red. 'Right, sorry about that.' Black stands up, running his hands through his hair and looking more confused than relieved at having gotten rid of his pursuer. Black doesn't even seem to be looking at him, but beyond, his eyes a dulled shade of grey. If he didn't know better, he would say, Black looked a little bit terrified.

He watches Black leave, a slight rosy tint to his cheeks as he touches his lips. He knows it doesn't mean anything, but he feels his heart twinge nonetheless.

* * *

_Sirius stared at Moony in shock. Their foreheads were still touching and Sirius could clearly see the flecks of gold in Moony's amber eyes, looking at him with trepidation and adoration, all at the same time. Thin fingers entwined with his, squeezing softly._

_Sirius remembered this day; not the boy he had kissed, but he remembered the moment as the day he had truly begun to question his sexuality. It had been his Sixth Year and James had coaxed Sirius into getting his first girlfriend – Sirius did not remember her either. He did remember wanting to be rid of her after only a week, but not knowing how. She followed him, wanting answers for his erratic behaviour and he had instead done what he knew would finally get her off his back. He had staged a kiss with "another girl", but then it had gone further. Sirius had_ _**wanted** _ _it to go further; had wanted to feel the erection pressing against his, the slight stubble that scraped across his jaw, even the coarseness of the hair that littered the boy's arms._

_The boy had been Moony: pale, thin, with eyes so beautifully expressive that they drew you into them like a black hole. Sirius remembered him only now with perfect clarity; but even then, it was the only memory he had of Moony. Had they been in the same Year? Sirius didn't remember ever seeing him after that, but he also remembered from Moony's memory, the need to hide and disappear. He had felt a constant fear in Moony's mind; one of being found and persecuted. Found for what?_

_Sirius felt none of this fear from the Moony sitting in front of him with a kind eyes and gentle smile. He felt the burden of sorrow, but stronger than anything else, he felt Moony's heart beating loudly against his chest._

' _I've loved you ever since…'_

* * *

 


	5. Shrieks of Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

_**Love.** _

It was a feeling Sirius had always yearned for but never quite understood. He had watched people in love enviously, year after year, as they lost themselves in each other; dedicated themselves completely to that one person they thought was made for them. Frank and Alice; Arthur and Molly; James and Lily; all of his friends and colleagues had married off one by one and Sirius had remained as he was: painfully alone. A part of Sirius always reminded him that perhaps things like this were beyond the realms of Blacks.

Sirius had never even known love until he'd met James Potter and his family; his parents had never loved him and sometimes, Sirius felt that Regulus had never loved him either. If he had, then he would have come to Sirius first instead of running to Dumbledore and pledging allegiance to the Order. If Regulus had loved Sirius, he would have trusted his older brother to protect him. There had been people- girls – in school who had adored him for his money and rebellious attitude, but none who had truly loved him. James and Lily Potter were the first to love Sirius; not out of obligation but true affection. Yet, despite it all, he still felt selfishly empty; as if left with a gaping hole that wanted desperately to be filled.

Moony loved him;  _loved._

 _Loved_ in a way that was unconditional; and showed in the light touches of his hands and the desperation in his eyes that pleaded for Sirius to simply accept him. Four years; Moony had loved him since Sixth Year and never asked for anything in return; not even a simple acknowledgement. Loved and loved and _loved_ ; never once feeling spite or regret for having chosen Sirius. Sirius who was flawed and broken irreparably; a person who people seemed almost afraid to love; Moony had wanted him through all of that. This fact alone further fueled his desperation to find Moony; everything about him – his past and his present. Dreams weren't enough anymore; Sirius wanted the  _real_  Moony; to feel the warmth of his embrace and the soft puffs of his breath against Sirius's skin. Sirius wanted to kiss him once more…

'Are you going to sign or what?'

Sirius startled out of his thoughts and realised he was still holding his quill against the sign-up sheet, poised and ready to write his name. He smiled sheepishly at James, who tapped his foot impatiently and looked expectantly at the quill in Sirius's hands. 'Yeah, sorry,' he apologised, quickly signing his name in and handing it over to James. 'You too? Didn't think you would…'

James shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes betrayed his nervousness. 'You can never have enough skills on the battlefield,' he replied somberly, 'Animagus forms are practically impossible to detect if done well – it's a crucial tool against our enemies.' He stuck the sheet back on the notice board with a simple charm, and Sirius could tell by the way his eyes moved that he was memorising the first two names that appeared before them. Sirius had done the same. 'There aren't many who can achieve the transformation entirely; most don't even attempt because the risks are high. It gives us an advantage…'

Sirius hummed in agreement. It was no wonder Sirius and James were always mistaken for brothers; they even thought in sync most of the time. 'James,' Sirius started, distractedly, 'Do you remember that pale boy in our year? Very quiet; didn't have too many friends?'

James frowned. 'Not really? Why?'

Sirius shrugged, trying to appear blasé. 'No reason in particular. Just remembered him all of a sudden, but couldn't quite place his name. I suppose the Hogwarts Library would have it in their alumni section, wouldn't they?' There was a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of having to go back to Hogwarts and facing his old Headmaster. There was a scar of hatred in Sirius's heart for the old man and no claims of how great a man he is or his acts of kindness could deter the hate from spreading every time he thought of the old wizard. Sirius detested him; hadn't met Dumbledore in years because he knew that if he did, there was no containing his rage.

'That's a lot of trouble for a boy you just had passing thought about,' James observed, raising a suspicious eyebrow, knowing of Sirius's bitterness better than anyone else.

Sirius snorted. 'It is,' he replied vaguely, turning away. He was truly getting desperate if he was actually considering returning to Hogwarts…

* * *

'So, Sirius, James tells me your Animagus form is quite "intimidating".' Lily Potter chuckled as she stressed on her last word. Obviously her husband had told her nothing as such.

'It's the Grim,' Sirius griped, shooting a glare towards James, though the heat was lost when he shoved more bread into his mouth. The past few days had involved much trial and error and exhausting of magic, which only heightened his ravenous hunger. They'd only been five in the class, which gave Moody plenty of opportunity to bully them into submission; going as far as threatening to permanently leave the first appendage Sirius had sprouted after what felt like a bout of constipation - his tail.

'It's a puppy,' James threw back, before bursting into raucous laughter. 'You should see it, Lily, it's this little black ball of fur, tail wagging and all. Everyone actually stopped trying to transform just to pet him. Even Moody forgot to be constantly vigilant.'

Each class had taken up seven straight hours of each day and by the end of each, Sirius had done nothing but collapse into bed. Sleep had come peacefully though Sirius hadn't wanted it to. He had waited. He had waited for Moony, so desperately wanting to see him that his mind was plagued with thoughts of him. Eyes, nose, skin, hair - he imagined each feature to perfection, before falling asleep in disappointment...

_The first thing that Sirius noticed when he came to was the wreckage. The room looked like it had gone through a war, leaving nothing whole including itself. It was a wooden house, clearly being held together by strong magic through the disaster that had struck it. The room was as bare as its walls, the wood cracked in several places as if by brute force. It didn't escape Sirius's notice that there were large claw marks extending across the walls – each of different length and depth; almost as if the animal responsible had been bred here into adulthood. Whatever had been caged here had been a far cry from a puppy; he didn't want to think about what it had been, so he resolutely ignored the splatters of red-brown across the wall surface. Instead, he looked towards the sole piece of furniture that lay in the corner of the room: a bed, with its occupant staring at him with wide eyes, almost disbelievingly._

' _I'm not asleep,' Sirius realised aloud. Almost immediately, the room flickered like bad static. Even his own hands jerked colours, almost disappearing before reappearing again. It reminded Sirius of the Potter's television set._

' _No.' Moony shook his head slowly. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand for Sirius, beckoning him closer as if wanting to clarify Sirius's presence through touch. His hands mapped Sirius's face as he sat down on the bed; fingers dipping into the bow of his lips and tracing the curve of his jaw. 'You wanted to see me,' Moony whispered, his voice hoarse and a little weak. Only then did Sirius notice how painfully thin Moony was; his collar bones tenting his t-shirt obscenely. Had he been this thin from the start? 'You came because you wanted to see me. It wasn't just me this time…' Moony's face broke into a smile as he looked up at Sirius, his amber eyes glimmering._

 _Sirius smiled back weakly, about to ask_ _**how** _ _, when he felt Moony's hands against the nape of his neck, pushing gently until their lips met. Sirius felt his breath hitch, eyes closing as Moony's lips pressed closer, sucking his lower lip; only a hint of tongue brushing against the corners of his mouth. This wasn't the first time they'd kissed surely, but suddenly, it_ _**felt** _ _it; it felt like a first kiss – hesitance and chaste touches, pleasant tingles and that giddy sort of reserved happiness that begged to burst forth. Sirius wondered if the difference was because he knew now how much Moony loved him._

' _H-How?' Sirius asked once they had parted, though he found his curiosity dwindling quickly at the sight of Moony's flush lips. His heart beat, if possible, quickened even more; his nerves on fire from sudden awareness of how close they were and how every inch of their bodies seemed to be touching._ _ **He loves me**_ _, Sirius thought silently. 'You were a dream…'_

_Moony shook his head. 'I told you before: I'm not a dream. I-' His face screwed up in thought. 'I don't know what I am or what this is,' he tried explaining, waving at their surroundings. He looked as confused as Sirius felt. 'I have a theory…that your mind, to me, is a bit like a Pensieve. Everything we see now is created out of my memory alone and we're just bystanders.'_

_Sirius frowned, his eyes warily surveying their surroundings; lingering a few seconds too long on the boarded window and how thin beams of light stained with reddish brown as it passed through each crack. 'It's magic, then?' He asked unsurely, moving his eyes back to Moony's._

_Moony shrugged. 'I don't know, to be honest. I only know that it's easier when you're asleep because you are at your weakest then; all your guards and defenses are pulled down…so…I can see you…' He rested a hand on top of Sirius's, fingers tracing the groove of each bone. 'The first time; I only remembered wanting to see you, so badly. So, so badly that my body ached and…it felt like…' Moony's eyes wavered, as if hesitant to say more. 'I_ _**needed** _ _you.'_

 _Sirius swallowed heavily, feeling his heart speed up once again. He turned his hand, palm upwards, entwining his fingers with Moony's; feeling the overwhelming warmth and the gentle pressure of thin fingers that felt so_ _**right** _ _against his. Sirius remembered the first time Moony had begun to appear; back then only as blurred shaped behind a thin sheet of fear and a voice that called out to him again and again till it grew hoarse. How long ago had that been; few days, months?_

_Moony was staring at their joint hands almost disbelievingly, and laughed when their eyes caught. 'Dumbledore would have called it the power of love.'_

_The comment was made almost fondly, bringing a scowl to Sirius's face. 'Yes, that does sound like the sort of misleading tosh he would say,' he growled, moving his hand away from Moony's, focusing his angry eyes on his shoes because it wasn't Moony's fault. It wasn't Moony's fault that the silence that followed tasted bitter in Sirius's mouth; nor was it Moony's fault that despite all the years that had passed since Regulus's death, Sirius's resentment and grief had yet to fade. 'He killed my brother. I bet he never mentioned that to you, did he?'_

' _Regulus?' Though Sirius could not see him, he heard the pity in Moony's voice, but with an underlying curiosity. 'You never got along in school though, did you?' A comforting warmth pressed against his side as Moony sidled closer, their knees and elbows touching and their inhales and exhales alternating to form an odd sort of symphony._

' _Regulus was a stupid boy; he didn't have the brains to fill an egg cup and constantly craved acceptance from his peers, our parents…_ _ **me**_ _. And just like the stupid boy he was, he got too far in the war too quick, thinking Voldemort was just another way to earn praise.' Sirius laughed derisively. 'He was such a coward when we were younger; he couldn't even kill a cockroach because he was too busy screaming and raising hell. What was he going to do as a Death Eater? It took him only a month to realise this for himself and then he did the stupidest thing of all: he went to Dumbledore.'_

' _For help…' Moony whispered softly, though with a hint of question._

' _To get killed,' Sirius spat with contempt. 'Dumbledore assigned him to a mission and he got killed in a stupid cave. They didn't have a body because it was lying with the Inferi. They didn't have an excuse because they all knew the outcome. Regulus was sent to die and till today, no one will tell me why or how. Not even James.' He bit back a choked sob, suddenly feeling the burden of James's betrayal more than ever. He had never voiced his feelings over Regulus's death, masking them only with hatred and anger – the only emotions he could express without exposing his weaknesses. '_ _ **Order**_ _regulations, he said.' Sirius snorted. 'Fuck the Order. Fuck Dumbledore.'_

 _Suddenly, the warmth of Moony's skin moved away, leaving Sirius feeling cold. 'Dumbledore,' he whispered defiantly, his hands clenched in his lap, 'Dumbledore was the first person outside my parents to ever care for me. He believed in me. He gave me a second chance when no one else would. He_ _**loved** _ _me when no one else would.'_

 _**I** _ _love you, Sirius wanted to say, though he wasn't sure how he came into that thought process. He wanted to tell Moony that the feeling of being so unwanted was just as deeply rooted in Sirius as it was in him. He wanted to tell Moony that for the first time in his entire life, Sirius did not feel alone; sitting here in a memory with a person his delusional mind could have easily conjured up from his inadequacies and need to be understood. Instead, his hatred took over and lips curled into a cruel sneer, 'That's a bit dramatic, don't you think? You speak as if you were some sort of sewer rat.'_

 _Moony's laughter was one without humour. 'Let me show you something and perhaps then you will understand what kind of_ _**sewer rat** _ _I really am. Maybe after this, I'll lose you forever, but I'm tired of lying. I'm tired of not trusting people…'_

_Sirius felt the blood rush to his face when he realised that Moony was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He spluttered, trying to find words to say or at least calm the sudden surge of desire that was rushing through him. He watched, eyes turning wide, first with lust and then horror, as the shirt fell away to reveal pale, creamy skin crisscrossed with thin scars – some still a fresh red._

' _What-' His throat clenched tightly, stomach twisting and churning with the sick realisation that each scar matched the clawed grooves in the walls perfectly. There were millions of them; leaving not an inch of skin unmarred; twisting up his arms and disappearing below his waist only barely hidden by trousers. The house they were in had been used for torture, he realised; the chinks coming into place. Only someone truly_ _ **sick**_ _could be responsible for this kind of abuse. 'Who did this to you?' Sirius asked, an almost frustrated anger building up inside him. He grabbed Moony by the forearms, shaking him wildly. 'Tell me who did this to you?'_

' _I did.' Moony replied impassively and then suddenly grabbed both sides of Sirius's face and pressed their foreheads together._

_Sirius felt his eyes roll back as a whirlwind of images flashed through his mind._

_**Blood. Pain. The moon – so bright, so round – hate hate hate. The agony of loneliness that tore screams from hoarse throats and broke bones and pushed claws further. Rejection, hatred – the fear that he'd be found.** _

_**Find me.** _

_**Dark corners where he hides, watching and watching as people pass by – wanting.** _

_**Find me. See me. Acknowledge me.** _

_**The tick tick tick of every second that passed, waiting and waiting and waiting for it to start and then wondering if it would just end. End end end – this is the last – until one short gasp of breath brings him back and he cries. He howls at night. He cries in the mornings.** _

_**I don't want to die...** _

_The hands left him and Sirius reeled backwards from the force, his eyes wide and mouth hung open as he swallowed lung-fulls of air. His mind tried desperately to cope with the information, trying to overwrite the sensory overload that had all his nerves screaming from pain that he had never felt and the tightness in his chest that restricted the words that gathered in the middle of his throat._

' _This is my truth,' Moony whispered, his eyes hard and challenging. 'My name is Remus John Lupin and I am a werewolf. This is where I used to transform every month – the Shrieking Shack.'_

 _The minute the words had left Moony's mouth, the air filled with a piercing shriek of agony. The glass surface on Sirius's watch cracked, as his hands moved to press tightly against his ears. It felt like pins jabbing into his ear, making his eyes well up from pain and he was almost sure that there was a trickle of blood moving past the side of his face. Sirius could almost_ _**feel** _ _the pain that seemed to be projecting through each high pitched scream, his mind drawing images that Moony had shown him. He forced his eyes open to see Remus, his mouth moving to form words Sirius couldn't understand. He concentrated harder, watching Moony's lips move with each syllable, spelling out the words:_

' _S-t-o-p. I-t.'_

'Fucking Merlin's hell, are you all right?' James and Lily's worried faces appeared in front of his bleary eyes and he blinked, trying to take in the wandering hands that settled on his pulse and the feeling of rough carpeting scraping against his oversensitised skin. His head seemed to be buzzing with too much and too little information at the same time, ears screaming for silence as Lily and James seemed to be yelling right into his ear.

'Mmhh,' Sirius groaned, pushing his hands against his ears, wanting to tell them to please be quiet. No one seemed to be listening.

'Oi, your ears are bleeding. Lily, Sirius's…'

He was so tired. So, so tired; like every cell in his body had been drained of its energy. He was supposed to remember something; something deathly important that had happened – some kind of lead to his never ending search for—

For  _what_?

'Stay with me, love,' Sirius didn't like being slapped. Not when he just wanted to sleep. 'Sirius, come on, pet, let me just check if…'

Sirius just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Everything finally fit; Sirius had the evidence right in his hands. Remus Lupin had been the first of his kind to go to Hogwarts at the same time as Sirius; under complete secrecy because if found out, things would have gotten farther than a simple expulsion. It would have meant a possible execution, especially towards the end of their years when Voldemort's rise had become an epidemic and suspects were being slain at the blink of an eye. Werewolves, even today, were high on the list of possible Death Eaters; Moony's unit being the only one which did not follow the " _Death upon sight_ " rule. It explained Remus's secrecy in school; the reason he spent so much time in the shadows, suppressing himself. It hurt to think of the pain Remus must have gone through; the hurt he must have experienced when he saw the hatred in everyone's eyes; the agony of being so invisible and alone that it reflected so clearly in the other man's eyes. It made Sirius feel rightfully ashamed of himself for being so selfish his entire life; at least he had had James and Lily.

He rang the doorbell again, his foot tapping with impatience. He thumped on the door for good measure, grinning when he heard a muffled curse that sounded distinctly like, ' _Merlin's missing bullock!'_

'Sirius,' James grumbled sleepily as he opened the door, 'What could possibly have you knocking at my front door so-' He frowned, rubbing his eyes and squinting. 'You look like shit, mate; when's the last time you slept or took a bloody shower?'

Sirius shrugged, pushing his way in. He'd spent the last two days and nights pouring through Ministry records, both in the magical division and beast division. He hadn't really had time for anything else; he had  _needed_ to find answers and finally find Remus. A shirt change could wait. 'Forget that. I've finally found him. All those time you told me it wasn't real, Jamie-boy; I have proof now. I can sh-'

'Sirius,' James held up his hands exasperatedly, 'I don't know what you're talking about, but you sound and  _look_ like a fucking lunatic. You passed out the other day from fucking exhaustion and Lily told you to  _sleep._  But here you come barging in at fucking two o'clock in the morning with a twenty three o'clock shadow on your face to tell me about you half assed theories that-'

'His name is Remus Lupin,' Sirius cut in and he felt a sense of triumph at the look of shock on James's face. 'The man in my dreams...but they're not really dreams…it's this complex magic that I can't really figure out, but last time I think I...' He shook his head, running his hand through his hair where it got stuck in one of the knotted clumps. 'No, I'm pretty sure I asserted one of my memories of the Shrieking Shack…remember when we-'

'Sirius, stop,' James forced out, putting his hands up. It didn't go beyond Sirius's notice that James was suddenly shaking. 'You're rambling and not making any sense. How can it be-'

Sirius pressed one of the Ministry files into James's hand, for once, confident of his sanity and mind. 'This is him, James,' he replied, pointing towards the photocopied black and white picture of Remus on the side. 'Everything – all his details are in here: his history as a werewolf, Hogwarts, his…what's the matter?'

James had slid down to the ground, one trembling hand resting against his forehead while the other rested against the floor almost as if holding him up. 'Sirius,' he started, licking his lips, 'Remus Lupin was sent on a werewolf mission for the Order four months ago. I was on his search mission myself. They mangled him beyond…' He swallowed, hazel eyes misty as they looked up at Sirius. 'He's dead.'

 

* * *


	6. Desperation in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

' _Aaron.'_

_Remus looked up from his drink, his lips twisting in a slight frown. The man looked undeterred by Remus's wariness and stuck his hand out, smile still in place. 'John,' he replied, after a moment of careful consideration. A mission was a mission, and secrecy was still at the forefront of Remus's mind. It didn't matter if the man in front of him was a muggle - sitting innocently; so very clueless about the war and the disaster that was going to strike upon them very soon._

' _John,' Aaron repeated, holding on to their handshake as his thumb traced the lines that were Remus's veins slowly, seductively. 'Lovely name.'_

' _It's common,' Remus snorted, though not with as much venom as he'd intended. He should have attempted to snatch his hand back, but couldn't help but submit to the jolts of pleasure that shot through him. It had been a while; a long while since his last one night stand – an empty fuck in the back alley and an exchange of fags. He swallowed the last of his drink and made to get up._

_He was held back by a gentle tightening of fingers. He could have slipped away. He could have paid for his drink and left, never turning back to see the dejected look in that wonderfully expressive face and full pink lips. It was the eyes that did him in – grey like storm clouds. 'John,' Aaron whispered his tone close to pleading, 'I know this sounds ridiculous but I've been watching you for the past three days.' Remus's heart sped up and his eyes darted around the pub cautiously as he wondered if he was truly so easy to follow. 'It took a lot of courage for me to come up to you, so please just…' Aaron bit his lip, '…won't you humour me with a drink? You won't regret it, I promise.'_

_It was stupid. He knew it the moment he sat back down and returned Aaron's grin with a tentative smile of his own. But those eyes were so grey and those hands – they were of someone who wanted him, craved him, and they got more and more intimate as the hands on the clock turned and minutes became midnight. Lips pressed softly against his, thighs pressed urgently against his waist, soft sighs were breathed against his neck; and for once, Remus let his eyes fall shut._

* * *

_Lies. Lies. Lies._

Sirius tore through his papers, spreading them across the Potter's kitchen table haphazardly. His eyes roamed in desperation; weeks spent on research showing through in highlighted details and red circles. None of it said anything about his death; not even a concern on his disappearance. Nothing had changed; no one had been informed. It was almost as if Remus Lupin had never existed beyond a name. It was pitiful and clear proof of how low Dumbledore could sink so as not to even acknowledge the death of member who had foolishly given up his life for the Order.

Excuses of secrecy and questions being raised about the causes of death slipped from James's mouth. 'You have to understand, Sirius, people would have started digging into his past, just like you. He was the first werewolf to ever attend Hogwarts, the first of his kind to be given any privileges, to be accepted at least partially into society. There would be curiosity, headlines in the papers, conspiracies that we had to avoid…'

_Excuses. Excuses. Excuses._

'What about him?' Sirius yelled, banging his fist against the table. 'He sacrificed his life for the bloody  _Order,_ yet no one had the integrity to honour him and find out who he was! Do any of you even  _know_ him? Have you ever tried? He was…he was…'

'Quiet,' James finished almost guiltily. 'He was passionate about fighting, Sirius. He was a true martyr and he-'

'Shut up!' Sirius screamed, kicking the table hard and causing it to topple over, the papers scattering across the floor. 'Fuck!' he cried softly, before falling to the floor, gathering his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands. 'Fuck.' He brushed off the consoling hand that fell to his shoulder; feeling tears of frustration and grief sting his eyes.

He felt James settle down beside him, the proximity far from comforting. 'There's a grave,' James said softly, understanding hazel eyes boring into grey.

* * *

_He ran. His muscles protested from pain, the tear tracks on his cheeks stung as they dried, and the shrill scream of his lungs tore through his chest. He needed air. He needed to breathe. But if he stopped now, he would die. If he stopped now, he would remember his sins: the blood that had squelched under his shoes and the light brown hair, so similar to his own, that had barely concealed the empty sockets once holding beautiful grey eyes. There was no face. There was no skin, nor was there a beating heart – just a gaping hole through his chest and teeth marks that were too small to be an animal's but too sharp to be entirely human. Aaron had been wearing Remus's shirt and a giddy smile across his face before they'd murdered him in cold blood._

_Remus had told him his real name._

_He finally stopped when the crunch of leaves and dried branches had died down. They were still there, he knew – hunting; trailing his scent with senses that had been sharpened the day they had surrendered to the animal within them. He was being hunted down by wolves in the skin of men._

' _Fuck,' Remus whispered, before retching all over the forest floor. He braced himself against the rough bark of an acorn tree, feeling his eyes sting from the stench emanating from his own puddle of sick. 'Fuck,' he cursed again, dissolving into tears and bone chilling shudders. A man had died. A man had died because of Remus's stupidity. Because he had fallen in love with Remus, and Remus had been weak enough to want his love…_

' _Fuck…'_

* * *

The reality of the situation finally hit Sirius when James apparated them to Crawley – Remus's home town.

There was no gravestone, no epitaph, no flowers; simply a bare patch of land where grass was yet to grow and the dirt settled at a slight bump on the otherwise flat terrain. There was no honour. Remus Lupin had died the way he had lived: unnoticed and unacknowledged. Sirius's heart felt like it was being squeezed to its death and he tried, he tried not to cry in front of James. To James, Remus had been an unknown. To Sirius, Remus should have been an unknown – a dream that he'd taken too far.

'I love him,' Sirius whispered, bending on one knee to place the small bouquet of violets he'd picked out from the store. Would Remus have liked them, he wondered. 'James, I'm in love with him.'

'Sirius…' There was something in James's voice that was too close to pity for Sirius's liking. 'You've never met him. You can't-'

'I've met him,' Sirius interrupted, too tired to be angry. The weight in the middle of his chest was only getting heavier and he allowed himself to wonder what it would have been like if Voldemort hadn't existed. If Dumbledore hadn't sought out to ruin Sirius's life by stealing every bit of his happiness like a leech that only took and took and took. He allowed himself to be selfish enough to envision a life with Remus by his side; kisses before leaving for work, burnt toast in the morning, and the comfort of Remus's scent that lingered on everything they owned. 'I've touched him. I've held him. I've kissed him…'

James rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. 'Please don't do this to yourself, Sirius. You're only going to wind up hurt. Lupin is-'

'Don't say it,' Sirius cut in harshly, his eyes blurring as he stared resolutely at the ground. His fists closed around the dirt underneath and suddenly, he had the urge to dig. He wanted to see what they had done. He wanted to see Remus, just once…just once in flesh, in what could be considered reality.

'Lupin needs to move on, Sirius,' James continued, thankfully avoiding that one word that would have Sirius breaking into pieces. 'He's trapped in our world for whatever reason, perhaps for you, but he needs to go. For his soul to find peace,  _you_ need to let him go…'

Sirius's next words come out as a choked sob, 'I can't…'

* * *

_He no longer had his wand._

_Remus had spread his scent across the forest to confuse them, but even he knew that such petty mind games would only last him so long. They had caught up to him: a small group of three much to Remus's luck. He had fought. He had won. He had lost his wand in the process and gained several wounds that were quickly getting infected. They looked like raw meat, some bleeding yellowish pus and many turning a putrid green that no amount of water or makeshift cloth bandages could cure. He hadn't eaten in days, giving up quickly when he realised that there wasn't much he could stomach in his state._

_Remus was going to die._

_Alone; shivering as he lay on his side in a damp cave._

_His whole body was coated with sweat and the putrid stench of rotting flesh. He had escaped Greyback and succumbed to an illness instead. It was pathetic._

_And all Remus could think was how he had let Dumbledore down through his failures. He had owed the man everything – his life, his will to fight, the safety of his family – and yet, Remus had failed what could have been a fate altering mission. Remus had failed it and suddenly, he was glad he was dying rather than having to face the shame that he had brought upon himself. He could not send for help anyway, not without his wand and not without endangering the already dwindling number of Order members._

_Remus's condescending laughter echoed in the small confines of the cave. His eyes closed on their own accord, too tired to aid him anymore. Despite being so close to the end, his mind drifted, like always, back to his parents and to Sirius Black. Remus always thought about Sirius Black - ever since the first day he'd set eyes on him._

_That night Remus desperately wished for a different life. He wished he had been braver, smarter, louder. He wished for someone to know him, to remember him; he wished for someone who would shed tears upon his death. He wished he weren't so alone. He wished…he wished he had summoned the courage all those years ago to tell Sirius how he felt. Perhaps things would be no different than they were now; perhaps Sirius would have never loved a monster, but at least Remus would have had no regrets. At least Remus's yearning wouldn't transfer to dreams of him every single night…_

' _ **Sirius,'**_ _he would whisper, his hands pressing against the glass separating them_ _ **'I love you,'**_

* * *

'Please,' Sirius whispered, closing his eyes tightly. 'Please come. Remus, please, please…' His body shook from effort and the back of his eyes hurt from being squeezed too tight.  _Desperation._  Sirius had never felt more desperate his entire life. For an answer, a call, just a flash of those amber eyes. He knew Remus was there; he  _knew_ this just as well as he knew that the Earth was round. He'd done it the last time; he had brought himself into Remus's mind and memories. Sirius had asserted one of his own memories of the Shrieking Shack– the frightfully pained screams he had heard one night when he and James had snuck out of school.

Remus had mentioned  _need._  The first time and every other time it had happened, Remus had needed him; yearned for him to a point where his very soul hurt and thoughts of Sirius consumed him.

Then why wasn't it working now, when Sirius was laid on the floor of his flat, begging.

'Please, Moony…I need you, please, please…I'll do anything…'

* * *

_It was Sirius who had given Remus the will to live. It was Sirius who had pushed Remus to his feet, foraging for herbs he'd learnt about in school that would turn his infection. Sirius who had given the courage for Remus to eat, to hunt, to keep himself safe from the wolves that hadn't deterred from their search for him. Months, he felt he had spent in caves, moving from one to another to spread his scent. But his new found determination only got him so far._

_The day Remus had finally been captured, he hadn't been entirely conscious. He had been half asleep on a bed of leaves that felt very much like the bed he'd had back home. The home he'd never lived in - Somerset. Sirius had been there with him and he had asked if Remus always spoke in riddles. Remus had chuckled and felt at ease, opening himself to Sirius. He had begun to give himself hope at that time; a hope that he would make it home and to Sirius. If he ever made it alive, this time, he would do things the right way._

_They had slammed his head to the ground; hard enough to draw blood and send him into a fitful of coughs, but gentle enough to jolt him slowly back into the real world. They tortured him, tore through him, and kept him in the darkness of a cell that looked like an endless chasm. So dark that sometimes, Remus had to reach out his hands to feel the metal bars keeping him in, each crackling with restrictive magic. They kept him until Voldemort arrived. They wanted to know about the Order, undeterred when Remus spat in their faces and bit them. It only made them laugh – a cub trying to be a wolf, they had taunted as they sent the Crucio burning through his nerves._

_Remus still had Sirius._

_There were rules, Remus slowly discovered. Whatever kind of magic this was, it did have rules. The first was that it fed off Remus's love and desperation – he could not reach anyone else because there was no one he craved as much as he did Sirius. The second was that what the mind believed to be true would come true. If Remus hurt himself during one of his "dreams", his mind perceived it as real and would create a blossoming bruise under his skin. Third, was the sacrifice of energy (or perhaps magic) - something that Remus would quickly run out of during his first week of captivity. With his energy, his "dreams" faded, sometimes behaving like static on a bad television set._

_Things changed in the second week. There was more food on the chipped plate they offered him. Remus only ate enough to keep him with Sirius. His ribs were already showing and when they realised what he was doing, they forced him. Forced his mouth open to swallow, injected him with potions that would keep him alive and help the show of ribs fade. Remus puked it all out. There was a growing puddle of dried vomit in the corner of his cell and it mingled with the stench of his piss and degradation._

_They never hurt him. There was anger behind slitted eyes and snarls behind tightening fingers (claws?), but they never hurt him. 'Don't damage the vessel,' he had heard one of them growl, barely suppressing his rage as his companion's nails dug into Remus's skin._

_It was the day Remus learned about Horcruxes._

* * *

Bottles smashed to the ground, some blowing out in harmless fumes as the potions spilled to the bathroom floor. Desperation clawed his insides as he searched through the cabinet, the first shelf already emptied to the sink and littering the floor. He had it, he knew this much. Lily had given him an entire bottle in the early stages of his  _dreams_ to help him sleep. The sleep had not come and Sirius had never truly used it because despite the deep tired ache in his bones, he had  _wanted_  to dream. He had  _wanted_ Remus from the very beginning.

The fact that Remus was dead hadn't changed the longing he felt. It only heightened Sirius's madness.

He had tried. Just like the last time, he had tried to call out, to immerse Remus in one of his pensive memories. But as if Remus had seen the knowledge of his death in Sirius's mind, he had refused to come. He no longer invaded Sirius's dreams nor his waking moments of vulnerability. It was as if Remus had never been real to begin with.

Sirius knew otherwise.

'Damn it!' he cried, as one of the potions splashed and burned his hand as it rolled into the sink. He quickly doused it under a spray of cold water, cursing his luck. That was when his eyes spotted the little blue bottle, sitting innocently in the corner. In big bold letters it read,  _Dreamless Sleep._ His hands shook as he reached for it, his fingers struggling to uncork the bottle. A spoonful for an adult dose, Lily had specified when she'd first handed Sirius the bottle.

He could not reach Remus, no matter how desperately he called.

Remus no longer came to him. How many days had it been? Four? Eight?

He walked to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed. His hands were no longer shaking. He felt no fear, no trepidation. He'd already steeled his resolve. Dreams were his sanctuary, the place Remus always eventually came to. In Sirius's sleep, he found love; and in his sleep, they would both find peace..

One mere spoonful to guarantee six minimum hours of sleep.

James had been right. Remus needed to move on. But Sirius was tired of being left alone

Four spoonfuls to guarantee twenty four hours of sleep.

Sirius touched the bottle to his lips.

An entire bottle for an eternity with the love of his life.

* * *

'Damn it, you little cunt! You fucking puked again!' Remus barely had the time to see the bars slide open, before he was being pushed against the wall, a hand closed tight around his neck. Yellow slitted eyes stared at him furiously, teeth bared, and breath that smelled like blood fanned across his face. 'I can't believe I  _turned_  such a pathetic disgrace,' he emphasized this with another shove backwards. Remus saw stars as his head collided with the stone wall behind him. This was good. If Fenrir Greyback could do the job, Remus would be able to put his courage and inhibitions aside. All he had to do was agitate the old wolf and he did so - with a shit eating grin.

'You little fucker! I'll kill you!' Greyback snarled, his sharpened nails now slowly digging into Remus's jugular. Remus could already feel the trickle of blood pooling at his collar bone. A little harder; just a little harder and Remus would save himself the pain and anguish of ending his own life.

The first time he had tried two days ago, they had caught him, revived him, and removed anything and everything that could possibly be considered as weapon for suicide. This included the buttons on his shirt, the cutlery that came with the food, even the jagged bits of stone that had fallen from repeated attacks during full moons.

He missed Sirius terribly but he was too weak.

He didn't want to be alone but he needed to end this charade.

He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to become more of a monster than he already was.

They were going to use him as a vessel for what Voldemort called a Horcrux, where part of the Dark Lord's soul would be infused into Remus's body. He was the perfect host – immeasurably strong because of his werewolf blood, a self induced recluse, and Dumbledore's golden boy. There were secrets inside him that many of the Order did not know – strategies, plans, successes and failures. Voldemort would not only gain all that information through Remus's mind, but also be able to infiltrate into the Order seamlessly. Remus's own soul would be overpowered and pushed aside, and like the Imperio, his struggles would not amount to much. How long till Dumbledore figured it out? How many people would he manage kill on his side before they realised that there was perpetrator on their side.

Remus would rather  _die_  than hurt anyone. He would rather die before he ever hurt his family or Sirius.

Sirius.

Sirius.

Sirius.

Sirius.

There was a sudden cry of pain and Remus crumpled to the ground in shock. There was a crunch of bone as his entire weight fell upon his left leg at an odd angle and he was only able to catch a glimpse of Greyback, nursing his hand to his chest. It was charred black, Remus was able to note with surprise, before he was pulled into unconsciousness. An unconscious that was so starkly white that it belittled the paleness of his own skin. He couldn't stand, so he reached out with his hands, trying to compensate the loss of his sight to blinding whiteness through touch. He felt nothing.

'Moony?'

Remus's head snapped behind him. 'Sirius?' he called, his eyes squinting to catch anything, even if just a glimpse. His heart was already beating at a mile per minute from the anxiety of seeing Sirius again. 'Sirius, where are you? Where are we?'

He felt arms encircle him from behind; yet when he turned, he saw nothing. The weight against his back was heavy and comforting, but while he could see the paleness of his own skin and shades of pink where he'd been roughed up, he could see nothing of Sirius's own. The presence pressed closer and Remus shifted his hand backwards, scrabbling for a body to hold on to but only finding air. 'I'm here. With you…for you…' he felt cold breath against his neck. 'Forever.'

Something about the way Sirius said 'forever', coupled with the quickly dropping temperature of Sirius's weight pressed against his back sent shivers crawling down Remus's spine. 'What do you mean?' he croaked, fear dropping heavy in his gut. 'Sirius, what does that mean?' He was screaming now, suddenly so, so afraid. He  _knew._ Inwardly, he already  _knew_ what Sirius had done; could feel it in the shuddering breaths Sirius took and the madness that seeped into the deep chuckle Sirius let out. 'Sirius, please, please…no…please…'

His eyes closed in pain as he felt soft lips press against the tears trailing down his cheeks. 'I love you, Moony. I love you.'

_No._

_No, no, no, NO!_

_JAMES!_

* * *

 


	7. Linked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

_Dark…too dark to see, but he knows where he is. He knows. He knows he's on the brink of death._

'You were lucky to have gotten to him early on, Mr. Potter. The damages aren't anything serious, but I suggest you keep an eye on your friend. I can refer Healer Bradford to you; he's the best we have and perhaps a few sessions can stabilise Mr. Black's mental state…'

_He feels stone underneath his hands but it is the bars that keep him in. Only the bars sometimes disappear and it's only opaque darkness that falls under his touch._

'I wasn't lucky. Lily, it wasn't luck that got me to Sirius's apartment back then.'

'James…'

'I-I heard something but I didn't hear it. Almost as if it was in my head but then it was also a feeling…like instinct…but  _not._ Lily, I think it was Remus Lupin.'

'Lupin? But he's-'

'Dead. I know.'

'Then how-'

_There is a distinct smell that always tickles his nose in the mornings. He knows this smell but can't quite place it. It's almost like grass, but isn't. It reminds him of Hogwarts and the days he spent in Green House Five and the terrors it had caused._

'Why Sirius? Lupin had never met Sirius his entire life, so why go to him alone? Why not someone from the Order?'

'He was in love with him.'

_They can't touch him anymore. Can't hurt him. Can't get close to him. Something always happens. Something bad._

'Oh, Jamie, he looks so pale. What do we do now? We can't possibly leave him alone. They're scared he might try again – relapse.'

_There are charred remains of a body that he's pushed to the corner. They won't move it and the smell brings bile to his mouth. He's terrified of it. Terrified of the way the eye balls have popped out and the mouth hangs open in a show of teeth and blackened tongue. Terrified of the sharp nails that are coated with his blood and bits of his flesh. Terrified that he's done this._

'Is he having a nightmare? Shh, Sirius, it's okay. James, call the Mediwitch again – he's convulsing! Fuck! Sirius, wake up! Sirius, wake-'

_The moon's only a shy away from full. He can't see it; there are no windows. He can_ _**feel** _ _it and he knows from practiced knowledge how many days he has left. If he's successful then he will be dead. If not, then he will be worse than. Tick tock, he taps against the stone wall. Tick tock tick tock tick tock-_

Sirius's whole body seized before he jerked awake, his eyes flying open in fear. In a matter of blind panic, he struggled against the arms holding him down, pushing him back into the bed: back into the dark confines where he would die. He didn't want to die this way – not alone in the dark or in fear. He wouldn't go back. He couldn't go back. All he could see was a flurry of white and a flash of black that pushed into his face, enclosing him further into darkness. He needed to see. He needed to see. He needed to get out before they killed him.

'Sirius, calm down.' It was James's voice that brought him crashing back to reality. 'It's okay. You're safe now. You're just in the hospital, so calm down.' Hazel eyes stared back at him, reassuring and concerned. 'It's okay.' When Sirius nodded, forcing his body to relax against his screaming instinct, James let go. The Medi-witches moved away as well and Sirius could see Lily standing in the corner, near tears. 'It was just a nightmare,' James said gently, probably afraid that Sirius was going to break. Sirius felt as if he was. 'Nothing more…just a nightmare.'

'It won't stop,' Sirius whispered clutching his head and curling up once again. 'I'm awake, but it won't stop.'

_No one dares say the name, but they all know he is coming. Cold fear can be seen in some of their slitted eyes but they_ _laugh regardless. They_ _always laugh. Not long now, they say, not long before everyone burns to the ground._

Sirius rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to wipe the images flashing in front of him. They were in his head, he knew, but he could  _see_  them. Bits and pieces, snatches of fear and resignation; they felt  _real._ Sirius shook his head, trying focus on the gentle hand that was running through his hair.

'Do you remember what happened?' Lily asked softly, her hand now resting on his cheek.

Sirius wasn't sure what she wanted him to say. He remembered a lot of things, but the problem was that most of it had never happened to him. He remembered feelings that he'd never felt, some that were so strong that it hammered against the back of his head and pulled at his heart painfully.

_Sirius, I love you. I love you. Please be alive. I love you._

Feelings of regret crowded inside of him. Regrets over being alive. Regrets over nearly killing himself. They were his regrets; he was feeling them, but they conflicted and warred against each other in his mind like they belonged to two different people. They were his but they didn't agree with him. Were they Remus's?

This seemed different from every other time – he couldn't see a face. He couldn't  _see_ anything, but it played out in his mind in bursts of memory. Memories that felt like his own, yet Sirius had never been through any of it.

They were his in his mind, but not his in reality.

Sirius clutched his hair tightly.

_My fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My fault. I love you._

'I'm…' Sirius swallowed, staring at the white sheets covering him, '…alone.'

The sound of Lily's hand meeting his cheek in a stinging slap resounded across the small hospital room. 'Don't you  _dare!'_ She fumed, her legendary temper starting to flare as red as her hair. 'Don't you  _dare_ say that again! Do you know how worried we were? Do you-'

_He vomits on purpose. He doesn't need to. His emotions are already in turmoil – swirling into the gutter much like water that slips through the drain._ _**It** _ _isn't happy. He can feel_ _**it** _ _clawing under his skin. Let me out,_ _**it** _ _says, it's your blood I want._

Sirius threw up on the side of the bed and Lily was cut short of her rant, flying to his side along with James and holding his hair back. The patting on his back only made things worse and the bile burned his throat, gushing through his nose and making him gag. It hurt. It hurt so much. He didn't know where it hurt, but it hurt.

_He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die but what choice did he have? He wanted to cry for help, just this once, he wanted to quit being strong. He didn't want to die._

Tears streamed down Sirius's face as violent sobs wracked his body. 'Dumbledore,' he managed to choke out, gripping the edge of the bed tightly as he cried. 'Please, I need to see Dumbledore...'

* * *

Fenrir Greyback was dead.

Remus tried not to look at the body lying in the corner, several hours rotten and though there wasn't much he could see, he felt as if he could almost hear the maggots crawling over Greyback's skin. The stench was unimaginable and it no longer mattered that Remus sat as far from it as possible. Yet, despite everything, there was a sick sort of satisfaction over Greyback's death. A part of him rejoiced the end of the creature that had condemned him to this cursed life of solitude and pain. It was disgusting but Remus no longer cared. He no longer wanted to be the kind, gentle soul that people had come to know him as. He did not have anyone to be kind to. No one was gentle with him here. He was going to die regardless...

_Sirius._

Remus shut his eyes tightly and tried not to think about him. No more, he told himself. It was his fault that Sirius had gone to the lengths he had last night. Not once had he thought that Sirius might fall in love with him. When all this started, Remus had only wanted to be with him. Remus hadn't wanted to be alone or with regrets. It was foolish. He had nearly brought down the man he loved with him.

_Sirius..._

NO!

Remus distracted himself by casting his eyes towards the back wall. There wasn't much he could see in the darkness but he knew that often times, when they needed to get in, bars appeared. He could hear them prowling behind the wall, restless and a few scared. They were scared to come near him now because something always happened when they did. There had been incidents, starting from the day that Greyback had pinned Remus to the cell with every intention to kill him despite Voldemort's orders. People had lost hands, parts of their faces, and in Greyback's case – their lives. Remus had been trying to ignore the smell of charred flesh but his senses were heightened so close to the full moon, and the overpowering stench made him retch violently on to the floor.

They burned.

Anyone who touched him; anything that touched him burned till they were nothing but dust.

It wasn't like his meetings with Sirius – there was no magic. At least, none that Remus was doing. It was like the Midas touch except gold wasn't quite the compensation he was offering. They had meant to turn him today – his body infused with Voldemort's soul - the leech that would consume him whole. Remus's curse had saved him only for a few more days. A few more days and the full moon would come – he would be too weak to fight back and they would use this opportunity to complete the final Horcrux. He only knew of these details because the other werewolves boasted about it; tittered as they discussed Voldemort's arrival to their dirty hell hole. Remus didn't know how they were going to do it; had no knowledge of the ritual but by the satisfied cackling of some of the elder werewolves, he knew that perhaps Voldemort would be impervious to his Midas touch. Or perhaps they had found a way to bypass it. Only, Remus had no intention to make it through the full moon. He was jarring the wolf's emotions on purpose; rattling its hinges and forcing it out of dormancy. He denied it food by purposefully throwing up everything that was given to him. Come full moon, Remus would be nothing but marred flesh and a dead body.

* * *

Sirius stumbled into the back alley of Hogshead inn, only saved from falling over by James's quick reflexes.

'All right there, mate?' He asked, his grip on Sirius not leaving even when Sirius nodded reassuringly. 'I wish you'd rested up a bit more, Sirius. I know the Healer said you were okay to go back home, but this is pushing it a bit. Lily was having a fit when we left.'

_The tremors won't stop. They come in sharp jerks, his breath catching in a harsh gasp before pulling back to normal._

'Did he say he would be waiting in the inn?' Sirius ignored James's words of concern, straightening his wobbly knees and steeling his resolve. How long had it been since he'd met the old Professor? How long had Sirius waited to finally meet the man that had took from him the two people he'd loved the most and played them like pawns in a dirty game of chess?

James sighed heavily. 'Yes; booth in the left hand corner. It will be warded off so no one can eavesdrop into your conversation. Do you want me to come along?'

'No.' Sirius brushed off James's concerned hand. He clenched his fists and looked back at his best friend. 'But,' he hesitated, before closing his eyes and admitting to the fear of losing his temper in front of the man he'd convinced himself to loathe all these years, 'maybe you could wait for a bit?'

James grinned, clapping Sirius on the back. 'Course I will.'

_It's cold. So very, very cold even though only moments back he remembers being warm. Each breath stings the inside of his nostrils and he struggles to breathe. His chest hurts._

**Remus,**  Sirius tried to call out in his head despite feeling utterly stupid.  **Remus can you hear me** , he tried again feeling dejected when he sensed no response. He clenched his eyes tightly but no matter how hard he tried, Remus would not come and the scenes in his mind would not disappear.

'Are you sure you're all right? You're looking a bit pale.'

Sirius shook his head. 'I'm fine.'

The moment the door had swung open, Sirius spotted the old professor ordering a pint at the bar. He looked exactly how he had back in Sirius's school days – silver beard that hung just below his chest, flamboyantly orange robes, and blue eyes that twinkled with far too much knowledge. Sirius's fists clenched as their eyes met and Dumbledore waved cheerfully. Sirius nodded in acknowledgement, barely feeling James's reassuring squeeze on his shoulder as he followed Dumbledore to the aforementioned booth. Residual magic licked the sides his body as he entered and he knew that Dumbledore had kept true to his promise of secrecy.

'How are you, Sirius?' Dumbledore smiled, sliding a drink towards him along with a bowl of sweets. Lemon drops – the Headmaster's favourite. 'James mentioned that you had a bit of an accident last night. I hope you weren't hurt too badly.' He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at him sympathetically; almost as if he  _knew_. As if he knew every single emotion that had passed through Sirius over the course of the night – the anguish, the pain, the longing. Had Sirius not known better, he would have been accusing James of treachery.

Nothing had changed, even after all these years. Except now Sirius was breaking a promise he'd made himself the day the news of Regulus's death had reached him. 'Remus Lupin is alive,' he said, cutting to the chase.

Dumbledore's eyebrows arched slightly. 'We have a body.'

'It's not his.' Sirius took a deep breath and looked the Professor in the eye as he started, 'I've been having these dreams…'

_There is someone approaching. No, not someone – some_ _**thing.** _ _He knows it isn't one of his kind; there is no scrape of claws against stone nor the aggressive thumping of feet that sound animalistic even though they are human. No, this is a_ _**slither;** _ _like someone sliding its body across in smooth fluid motions._

_It feels as if the temperature drops further and even though he cannot see much, he knows that his fingers are quickly turning blue._

_His heart beat quickens._

_It's coming closer…_

* * *

Cold rattling breath fanned against his cheek and Remus shivered, though not out of cold. Fear gripped his heart like a vice and no matter how much he told himself to calm down, his insides were quaking violently. Even through the darkness he could perfectly make out the stark blood red eyes staring at him, surveying him closely. Since leaving school, Remus had joined the Order to fight for the cause and for the first time, Remus was face to face with that very cause: the beast that had cost him his family and so many of his comrades. He should have felt hatred and resentment. He did, but they were overshadowed by the terror that kept him glued to his spot in the corner of his cell.

'Dumbledore's pet werewolf,' Voldemort sneered, his head tilting eerily. 'You've been causing quite a stir in here, haven't you?' He cast his eyes towards the dead remains of Greyback's body and yet again, Remus could hear the maggots crawling – louder this time as if every chunk of flesh they devoured was thundering in his ears.

 **Shut your mind,**  a part of him screamed; and he struggled despite having perfected the spell eons ago. His limbs were trembling. The wolf inside him clawed for escape.

'Things would have been so much easier for you if you had chosen to be by my side,' Voldemort sauntered around Remus who pressed his back further against the wall.

There was something crawling ( _slithering_ ) around him, building a cocoon that was only inches from his skin. A hungry hiss sounded in the air and suddenly Remus could see; even in the darkness where everything was in shadows, he could see it. With perfect clarity, he could make out the definition of each scale and the blood red markings that ran across the large snake's skin, so similar to Voldemort's eyes. It was watching him hungrily, its head swaying side to side in a hypnotic dance - ready to strike on command.

'Calm down, Nagini. We won't feast on this one.'

The snake uncurled, its body sliding fluidly from around Remus and straightening. It held its vicious stare, showing a glimmer of venomous fangs before moving to join its master, coiling around Voldemort's feet lazily.

'Remus Lupin…' Voldemort drawled.

Remus cast his eyes to the wall to distract himself; to look anywhere but his captors.  **Shut your mind!**

'I can save you from this pain, these pointless rituals. I can give you the freedom you so desire; the respect; the integrity; anything you want, even…' Voldemort's thin lips spread into a wicked smile, '… _love._ '

The door to his mind that had been held open by fear slammed shut, as Remus spat into Voldemort's face. 'Fuck you!' He screamed before there were fingers on his throat and then a sudden sharp stench of burning flesh.

Remus laughed as Voldemort pulled back in shock, cradling his now charred hand to his chest. The werewolves scrambled to move farther away from him, breaking out in murmurs of incredulity. Remus's laughter turned hysterical, tears of disbelief and grief streaming down his eyes. It bounced back against the walls, echoing loudly as mockery to the  _Dark Lord._ He watched as the snake hissed in anger and would itself tight. Voldemort's face was curling with fury. Remus's laughter died down abruptly as he saw the pull of wand and he clenched his fists tightly, determined to stay silent for as long as possible. He would not give the satisfaction of pain.

' _Crucio!'_

* * *

'I smelled Deull. At least, it felt like a smell but perhaps it was just a thought. I don't really know,' Sirius whispered softly. Dumbledore had listened to him throughout their conversation without any question or comment. In fact, the Professor had said nothing at all. He had silently listened to everything Sirius had to say with a gentle nod of the head that urged him to go on. 'Deull – the Hanging Trees. There aren't many left, are there, Professor? I could search the country for them, but something tells me that Remus isn't very far from where you'd sent him for the mission.'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Sirius…'

_Blood red eyes poised in an endless line. They're watching him. Watching like an animal watches its prey._

'I don't have time, Professor,' Sirius stressed, cutting in. 'A day and a half – that's all I have before the full moon rises. After that…I can tell…I _know_ something bad is going to happen. My brother died because of you; because you sent him to a mission that was bound to fail,' He tried to keep the anger out of his voice but his hands were trembling. He glanced to his right and saw James hovering at the bar almost as if he was keeping an eye on Sirius. Sirius turned his eyes back to Dumbledore, shooting him a hard look. 'Are you going to do the same with Remus? Are you really expecting to win a war through nothing but sacrifices?'

'Sirius, I would like nothing more than to help Remus,  _should_ he be alive. But from what you have said so far, there is not much to go by apart from-'

'They're real,' Sirius interrupted yet again.

'I never said they weren't, Mr. Black,' Dumbledore replied gently. 'But spirits are often unable to move on after death. In Remus's case, he is simply trying to conquer his loneliness that had plagued him during his life as the living.'

_He can't move. He can't take his gaze away from those slitted eyes. Can't stop the ringing in his ears as_ _**He** _ _mocks him and offers empty promises._ _**He** _ _-_

Sirius blinked rapidly. 'It stopped,' he exclaimed to himself suddenly.

Panic started to settle into Sirius as he went through the possibilities of what could have happened. It shouldn't have stopped; Sirius had been able to feel Remus since he'd woken up in the hospital. It had been agony, but he'd been able to feel the staccato heartbeat as his own and the deep breaths that had told him Remus was alive. Why? Why, why, why?

'Horcrux,' Sirius cried out desperately, looking at Dumbledore with pleading eyes, 'Horcrux – that's what they want. I don't know what it is or what the fuck they're going to do with it, but I remember hearing it. I remember it.'

'Are you sure?' By the look on Dumbledore's face, Sirius knew he had hit the mark. Dumbledore's blue eyes had gone hard, his mouth set in a tight line. Suddenly, he looked a lot more intimidating than Sirius remembered. He seemed bigger, stronger – his very skin thrumming with powerful magic. 'Mr. Black, are you completely sure of this?'

'I'm begging you, Dumbledore,' Sirius pleaded, taking both the Professor's hands in his. He searched his mind again, feeling tears prickle in his eyes when he still couldn't feel Remus within him. His hands tightened. He didn't care anymore; not for his pride or his past resentments. He didn't care if it meant bringing Remus back. 'Please,' he implored, resting his forehead against their clasped hands in a partial bow. 'Please help me save him…'

* * *

 


	8. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

Sirius's hands paused on the door handles, hesitant. Apprehension coiled in his gut as he stared at the dark oak wood and the carved intricate designs surrounding the Potter family crest.

The Potter's ancestral home was nearly three hundred years old, lavish just like Grimmauld Place but with none of the charm and beauty. It stood two storeys tall, with flowering vines creeping artfully across the sides in outbursts of violet and green. The tall windows showed peeks of gold hand embroidered curtains, patterned with deep maroon. The terrace had deep gold steel railings, each bar branching out to leaves that curled sideways and reflected the early hours of sunlight at dawn. They didn't possess the aged and faded beauty that the rest of the house did, but only because the railings had been an extra addition by Mrs. Potter. She had had them installed back in 1975, when James and Sirius's roughhousing had escalated to a minor fall and not so minor injuries.

Sirius had been a part of this house during for the better part his school years - laughed here, loved here, played here, truly  _lived_  here. To think James would give up his father's house to the Order of Phoenix, never once asking of Sirius's opinion. It felt like betrayal. Even though it was never actually Sirius's home, he had considered it as so. And as irrational as it seemed, Sirius felt as if James had given it up almost on purpose just to spite him.

'Sirius, it's all right,' Lily's hand closed around his and she smiled kindly at him. 'Remus was a part of us. They're here to help.'

Fear coiled tighter in his gut. The fear of losing Remus like the Order had lost many others. That the pride he'd set aside when he begged Dumbledore for his help would amount to nothing. Gathering what courage he could muster, Sirius pushed the door open. All heads turned towards him in curiosity, some in sympathy. The Order has grown since Sirius last left it, though not substantially. Many of the old faces were gone and Sirius had a feeling that it wasn't just for a holiday. They had probably been  _sacrifices_  for the greater cause. Just like Remus Lupin.

Sirius's fists clenched tightly.

'Come on, mate,' James clapped him on the back lightly before steering him towards one of the many empty seats. A hot cup of tea was pressed into his hands and Sirius was given a moment to calm himself before Dumbledore spoke.

'Peter, thank you for taking the time to come. I'm sure you're worn out after your mission in Poland.'

Sirius's head whipped around at the mention of Peter's name and he was shocked to see his chubby school mate looking haggard and weary. How long had it been since he'd seen Peter – seven, eight months? They'd been best friends at one point but Sirius had started to pull away from everyone after Regulus's death. James and Lily had been persistent and patient; Peter had not and they'd eventually drifted apart.

'When I heard Lupin might be alive, I had to come,' Peter replied wearily. He really did look worse for wear - sunken cheeks, pale skin, and a good few inches, it seemed, off his previously robust waistline. Sirius suddenly felt guilty for shutting Peter out for so long. The last time they'd met, Peter had been worried about his half-blood mother getting attacked. Sirius wondered if she was okay.

Peter's eyes met Sirius's momentarily and for a split second before they moved away, they seemed to reflect fear. Sirius blinked, taken aback, and then looked away.

'We have an urgent matter in our hands,' Dumbledore started slowly, pushing his half moon glasses up the bridge of his nose. 'As you have all probably heard, we've made a grave mistake in our search for Remus Lupin. He is alive.' The crowd broke into urgent murmurs, some gasping in disbelief and relief at the same time.

'There is reason to believe that he is being held captive by Voldemort and if he is being kept alive after all this time, then it is not without an ulterior motive.' Dumbledore clasped his hands together and looked pointedly at Sirius before continuing, 'We have been able to single out a possible location of his whereabouts, taking into account where we'd thought to have found Remus last, as well as information that Sirius Black had been kind enough to give us.'

Sirius frowned in confusion.

'The smell you described to us, Sirius - Deull - leaves from the hanging tree. They're very rare and only found in certain areas of Scotland. Remus is also possibly being held underground, probably by magic given his monthly condition. So we need to keep an eye out for traces of left over magic,' Dumbledore explained. 'Maps have been laid out of all the possible areas and we'll be splitting into groups according to strengths and a team leader needs to be appointed in order to...'

Sirius's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he listened to Dumbledore divide The Order into teams of four. Hope soared in his chest as he watched hands raise to volunteer, their eyes reflecting their eagerness to help. Ideas were thrown back and forth, along with questions of Remus's well being. There was a sense of worry and urgency in the air, as Dumbledore explained that they didn't have much time. They felt what Sirius felt; they cared the way Sirius cared. Suddenly, Sirius wasn't as angry at the Order anymore. He still felt wronged by Dumbledore, but everyone here was out to do right. Sirius wished Remus could see this now. Perhaps then he would understand that he was never quite as alone as he made himself out to be. Remus had made friends here - he just didn't know it.

'Now, I need to embark on a subject that had been plaguing my mind since the early days of Voldemort's tyranny. How many of you have heard of the word, Horcrux?'

The thudding came to a stop.

The silence in the room was almost palpable as Dumbledore launched into a vague explanation. No one knew how the Horcrux worked; had barely any basic knowledge except for its purpose. There was one who knew – Horace Slughorn, but he had conveniently put himself into hiding. A hiding of shame and remorse. Sirius wasn't surprised – their old Potions professor had always been a bit of a nut.

There are a _ssumptions_ behind the Horcrux, Dumbledore put kindly, even though the meaning behind the words were clearly, 'worst case scenario'. It sounded ludicrous - splitting one's soul; was it even possible?

'Sirius,' Lily whispered, gently coaxing his hand apart when she noticed blood running down the crescent shapes he'd carved into his palms. It hurt - that sinking feeling of reality that told him that he might already be too late. That Remus might already be...

Which was worse? Death or possession?

Sirius closed his eyes in honest prayer, hoping against all hopes that Remus could hear him: _Please_ _be_ _alive._ _I'm_ _coming,_ _so_ _until_ _then,_ _please_ _be_ _alive._ _Please_ _be_ _alive._

* * *

His head was pounding.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

It sounded like the rhythmic beating of his heart beating through his skull. Seventy two times per minute. One point two beats per second, like a hammer pushing into his skull, shattering it into pieces.

_Please be alive._

The wolf howled, rejoicing at his victory. In a matter of hours, Remus would voluntarily be his. The wolf had spent twenty years with Remus, as his protector in the beginning and then as an enemy as Remus tried his hardest to restrain and deny that part of himself. The wolf's resentment towards Remus had festered to hate and finally to murderous spite.

Remus welcomed it. He came to peace with it. The moon was close - even without windows, Remus could tell.

_Please be alive._

Yet, the wolf still scratched its claws against the inner walls of his stomach, causing Remus to spasm violently before throwing up nothing but water and bile. It rattled its cages in Remus's head, mocking him.

He lay on his side, the cool stone floor numbing his skin. Tears of agony and shame pooled underneath, soaking into his hair. He no longer had the strength to see Sirius, no matter how desperately he wanted it. So he contended himself with simple memories...

_Remus feels like an idiot hiding here. There is absolutely no need for him to hide; yet, he finds himself squeezed into a ball, too small for his long frame, between the wall and the bookshelf in the restricted section._

_'Fuck!'_

_Sirius Black. Somehow, it seems as if no matter where he went, Remus always manages to find himself in Black's vicinity. Perhaps it has to do with the soft twinge in his heart or the tingle of his fingers that begs for a simple touch from the other boy._

_'Fuck this!'_

_The bookshelf that Remus's back is tightly pressed to shakes as Sirius kicks it angrily. Remus prays it doesn't collapse. Wondering what could have angered the Black boy so much, he peeks out curiously, straining to maintain his balance and not blow his cover. His breath catches in his throat as he realises that Sirius has slid down to his knees in defeat, fingers buried in his hair. He's crying. They are silent tears; angry tears, and for some reason, Remus's heart aches for him._

It's only a crush,  _Remus_ _tells_ _himself_ _as_ _he_ _slides_ _back_ _in._ This isn't any of my business anyway _,_ _Remus_ _assures_ _as_ _Sirius_ _lets_ _out_ _a_ _watery_ _sob._ He doesn't even know who I am.

_Remus sighs and peeks out again. Black is truly a mess - his face is flushed, hair in disarray and his robes and tie are discarded to the floor in anger. There are many guesses Remus can make to the cause of Sirius's upset. The Black family doesn't exactly keep their disapproval of their first son private. Remus still cringes when he remembers the particularly nasty howler sent to Sirius last Sunday. Horrible words; there were horrible words that even Remus has never heard as a werewolf. There are also rumours circling around about Sirius Black's newly found sexual orientation. Remus has heard them and wondered how the same people that pretend to worship him can say such cruel things behind his back._

_Remus touches his lips softly, remembering the kiss they'd shared only a year back. It had been right here, hadn't it? In this very section of the library because no one ever came here. It was isolated, and it hits Remus that it is probably why Sirius chose to come here again._

_'You're such an idiot, Sirius,' Remus hears Sirius whisper softly, 'getting your hopes up when you can't even remember his face right. He isn't even here. He's never here.'_

_Remus frowns. He? Who?_

_Sirius_ _sniffles_ _and_ _Remus_ _sees_ _him_ _wipe_ _his_ _nose_ _and_ _eyes_ _with_ _the_ _back_ _of_ _his_ _hand._ _Remus_ _suddenly_ _can't_ _take_ _it_ _anymore_ _-_ _all_ _these_ _tears._ _What_ _Remus_ _does_ _next_ _has_ _nothing_ _to_ _do_ _with_ _sympathy._ _It_ _is_ _purely_ _selfish_ _because_ _his_ _chest_ _hurts_ _when_ _Sirius_ _cries_ _and_ _that_ _can't_ _possibly_ _be_ _healthy._ _Remus_ _doesn't_ _need_ _cardiac_ _issues_ _to_ _add_ _to_ _his_ _ever_ _present_ _werewolf_ _condition._

_So he squeezes out to the other side of the bookshelf, crawling on his hands and knees in search of just the right book. He charms certain words on certain pages to magnify and bold out of the pages, feeling utterly stupid, and then tips them over to Sirius's side._

_'What the fuck? Who's there? Hello?'_

_Remus crouches low and prays that Sirius is truly as smart as they say, and that he understands without Remus having to make a fool of himself._

' _The_ _Therkichritus_ _is_ _known_ _for_ _its_ _carnivorous_ _attitude_ _towards_ _all_ _humans_ _and_ _magical_ _creatures._ _Despite_ _being_ _of_ _the_ _plant_ _species,_ _its_ _powerful_ _jaw_ _is_ _feared_ _so_ _much_ _so_ _that_ _even_ _dragons_ **DON'T** _dare_ _come_ _near_ _it._ _Fine_ **CRY** _stalline_ _powder_ _extracted_ _from_ _the_ _inner_ _root_ _veins_ _are_ _used_ _in_ _many_ _high_ _level_ _and_ _illegal_ _potion_ _making._ _'_

_Remus charms another book and tips it into Sirius's side, before crouching down low on his hands and knees. He prays fervently that he won't be found out._

' **IT** **IS** _speculated_ _that_ **ALL** _the_ _Goblins_ _that_ _had_ _participated_ _in_ _the_ _rebellion_ _had_ _staged_ _their_ _own_ _loss._ _General_ _Porkut_ _and_ _his_ **RIGHT** _hand_ _man..._ _'_

_Sirius's laughter echoes in Remus's ears and he swears it is the sweetest sound he's ever heard. It is a sound of dried tears and an almost bubbling mirth, and Remus's chest feels lighter than ever. He bites his lip and peeks through the books one last time to catch a glimpse of Sirius's smile, before walking away as quickly as he can to the other side. There is another book in his hands, held close to his chest. A book that he reconsiders passing on to Sirius in the last few seconds because he loses the courage to._

' **LOVE** _potions,_ _like_ **YOU** _th_ _potions_ _are_ _illegal_ _in_ _the_ _wizarding_ _world_ _…'_

_And even as he sits down in the Common Room to finish his Charms homework, Remus feels his cheeks start to redden with pleasure every time he thinks of Sirius's smile. He doesn't even realise that he's stolen a library book._

* * *

'Sirius! Over here! I think I found something!'

 _Too_ _easy_ , Sirius thought once again as he, James, and Frank ran towards Peter.

Everything was coming to them too easy - there were no apparition wards, no hidden guards or security spells in the vicinity. They were in the wrong place, Sirius was sure of it. There was no possible way that Voldemort would be so complacent as to disregard security measures entirely for one of his holdings, especially if what Dumbledore claimed about the Horcruxes were accurate.

Sirius only hoped that the other teams would have more luck and send out a signal sooner than later.

'Sirius, there's some kind of enchantment here!' James exclaimed, bending to his knees and pointing his wand at the ground. Sure enough, James's wand was vibrating from enforced magic. ' _Revealio!'_  The air around them shimmered for seconds - red and green - before settling in back to normal. 'Pete, send a Patronus to the others. Tell them we found it.'

Sirius frowned, dropping to the ground beside James and Frank, both of whom had already started trying to break the spells. 'Don't you think you're being a little hasty?' Sirius asked, despite the frantic beating in his heart. Had they really found it? 'It could just be a store house or panic room. It could-'

The ground split apart to reveal a small hole just large enough for a person to fit through. The earth underneath their feet trembled, kicking up small bits of rock and dead leaves, as disks of dirt shot from the walls of the tunnel, creating a mock staircase.

Sirius, Frank, and James exchanged looks between themselves before turning to Peter who was staring at the makeshift pathway with apprehension. Despite the drift between them, Sirius was accustomed to the expression on Peter's face - that look of fear just as they were about to force him into joining another one of their insane pranks or conquests. He'd seen in countless time back in their school days and even now, it didn't fail to arouse a spark of irritation within Sirius.

'Do you still think it's a store house?' Frank asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius ignored him, choosing to dismount the stairs first, wand clenched tightly in his fist. The alarm bells in his head were ringing - warning him of impending danger. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, making his heart pound almost painfully in his chest and his breath come out in rapid successions. The sound of rushing blood echoed in his ears.

Close. He was so close. So, so close and yet not close enough because they still didn't know where Remus was or if they would find him alive. Every inch of Sirius's soul was yearning for him, feeling a magnetic pull of will tingling at every end of his nerves. Sirius had never wanted something as badly as he'd wanted this, and he realised with a sense of self awe that at this point in time, he was desperate enough to do _anything._

_'Stupefy!'_

Sirius was broken out of his reverie as a shot of green light brushed past his ear and straight into someone who had been advancing towards them. It was too dark to see and Sirius could only make out the shadow of bulky form falling backwards. Heart suddenly speeding up, Sirius glanced at James who had his wand raised and was breathing heavily, eyes wide.

'Don't let your fucking guard down, Sirius,' James growled, 'Remember we're walking on a fucking landmine right now.'

Sirius swallowed and nodded, forcing his thoughts to clear. If he kept acting this way, he would never find Remus. With new found determination, he moved ahead, making sure to keep his wand light to a minimum. His feet brushed the fallen figure as they walked, wincing when his _lumos_ revealed a heavily disfigured face that looked more animal than human, slitted eyes open wide in shock.

_Werewolf._

Again, Sirius was hit with the idea that things were too easy. As a werewolf, their attacker would have had quicker reflexes, especially one that had already succumbed so much to the animal. If he had wanted to attack them, surely he would have exerted more strength rather than just come forth practically _trotting_ towards them. If the werewolf had been the runt of the group, he would have had backup. At least one other man to guard the entrance to what was meant to protect a part of Voldemort's soul.

Sirius squinted in the dark, frowning when he noticed a pool of blood spreading underneath the werewolf's head.  _From_ _a_ _Stupefy?_  It was likely that he had hit his head on the stone floor when he'd fallen from James's spell, but not too likely. He kicked the still body gently with the front of his boot, letting out a sigh of relief when the werewolf's chest moved inwards from an inhale.  _Breathing._

'James,' Sirius whispered, grabbing James by the forearm tightly, 'go back.'

James looked into Sirius's eyes piercingly, 'You feel it too, don't you?' he whispered, his wand hand tightening. 'Too easy…almost as if it were a trap. No guards except that one and even so it's flimsy – this whole setup…'

There was a reason why James and Sirius had always been considered brothers back in school. 'I'm going ahead,' Sirius elaborated with determination, 'but I need you lot to go back and report what you've found and maybe stop the rest from coming in. I don't want to take any chances, not with the full moon so close. I need to find him…'

James shook his head. 'Sirius, it's too-'

'I'll come with you,' Peter cut in, stepping up to Sirius. 'You can't go in alone. We'll split into pairs. I know all of the Order signals and spells, and my Animagus is a rat. I can scout for any traps that might have been set and look ahead…'

Sirius hadn't even known Peter was an Animagus, yet James didn't seem surprised in the least. Just how much of his friends' lives had he missed? When had Peter become so brave to volunteer himself willingly into what was clearly a trap? Not to mention, smart enough to master an Animagus transformation when he couldn't even pass half his exams without James's help.

'I don't think you should, Pete,' Frank said slowly, though he could probably see that a part of Sirius did want backup. 'It's dangerous and we don't know what all this is going to lead to and-'

'We're wasting time,' Peter replied shortly, turning away from all of them and setting off ahead. He was walking faster than Sirius ever remembered him capable of. Practically running. They had wasted too much time searching for a hideout, more time than they'd anticipated and currently had on hand.

Sirius shrugged, clapped Frank and James on the shoulder and set off behind Peter. They were both slowly breaking into a run, a sense of urgency looming in on them as they realised that the full moon was only half an hour away. Despite it being pitch dark, Sirius felt he could sense the pull of the moon perfectly, and it was far from pleasant. It felt… _painful_ , though Sirius felt no physical pain. It was an  _idea_ of pain, as if it was supposed to be there but his brain was simply choosing to ignore it.

Corridors passed by in a blur, the consistent stone walls all melding into one single image of grey.

'This way!' Peter cried out, as they turned right from a split tunnel. 'I think I see something! A light of some sort! I can…'

Peter's words died out as light flooded the room and Sirius was suddenly struck with the thought of static. It felt like one of his dreams or perhaps he would have to call them messages from Remus now. Surrounded by whiteness with nothing but a gentle humming sound steadily tickling his ears, Sirius stood still in confusion. He looked to his right and saw Peter as nothing more than an outline in the overflow of light. The humming grew louder and an ominous feeling crept up Sirius's spine – it was the sound of a machine starting up, gears clicking into place.

And then suddenly, he found himself being pulled backwards, his arms and legs flinging outwards as he fell into an endless chasm. Sirius closed his eyes tightly, feeling his hair whipping painfully against his neck as he waited for the impact that was sure to come. His hands tried to move up to shield his head but the force of the wind was too strong. It resisted and pushed back Sirius's arms before him, leaving his head and neck exposed to pain that was sure to come.

Yet it didn't.

At least, not as hard as Sirius had anticipated it. He was laid, almost gently on his back. He kept his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of smooth, cold floor underneath him. Marble. It smelled different as well; sweet, like expensive perfume. It was familiar in some ways, but Sirius couldn't quite place how.

'Sirius? Why are you sleeping on the floor?'

Sirius's eyes shot open. 'Regulus?'

'Who else, you knob?' Regulus laughed, gently kicking the side of Sirius's thigh. 'Been dreaming again, have you?' At Sirius's confused expression, Regulus laughed harder. 'Come on, get up already. Honestly, I don't understand why you insist on overtime if you can't even bring yourself to climb up the stairs to your bed at the end of it. Just take a break already. You work too hard.'

Sirius got up slowly, his hands brushing against the floor slowly, making sure that the cold he felt at his fingertips was real. 'Regulus, you…' He swallowed, bringing up shaky hands to his brother's face, tracing underneath his eyes, his cheeks, that familiar jawbone. 'It's really you…Merlin, it's really you…you're not…you're not…'

'Sirius, you're really starting to scare me.'

 _Impossible._ 'What did I give you for your fifteenth birthday?'

'What?' Regulus asked incredulously, slapping Sirius's hands away.

'Please…' Sirius whispered, fearful of the hope that was rising in him. Had it all really been a dream? No…no, it was impossible. He remembered the grief, Dumbledore's words, the empty coffin and the emptier funeral.

Regulus frowned. 'Sirius, you're being-'

'Answer me!' Sirius cried desperately.

'A black face,' Regulus replied shortly. 'On my fifteenth birthday, you and James filled my gift box with minor explosives and dung bombs. I couldn't wash the smell off my skin for weeks.'

Sirius stared. Swallowed. And then suddenly, launched himself at his brother, arms going around Regulus in a tight hug. He found himself laughing; laughing in relief, laughing in glee; laughing because his brother was alive and it had all been a bad dream. All of it had just been a bad dream and someone had finally waked him up to blissful reality.

'Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into you today.' Regulus muttered, moving away from Sirius's delirious embrace. 'Now, come before dinner gets cold.'

He pushed open the doors to the kitchen, though Sirius was too high on happiness to remember walking to it in the first place. He followed his brother inside, relishing in the simple feelings of solid weight against his palms and the pungent aroma of food that accosted him as he stepped into the kitchen.

'What took you so long? I'm starving!'

Sirius felt his stomach drop to his feet.

'Sorry,' Regulus rolled his eyes. 'Sirius was being a complete twat. Don't know what's gotten into him today.'

'Hopeless,' Remus smiled. 'Come on, then. Let's eat.'

* * *

 


	9. Euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber eyes, pale skin, and whispered love confessions: they were fine as dreams. But when Sirius finds himself drawing closer and closer to a point of obsession, he knows he has no choice but to push against the thin barriers between dreams and reality.

'Are you really going to stand there all day?' Remus sighed, getting up and walking towards Sirius, who had gone still in shock. 'Padfoot, are you really going to do this in front of your brother?' Remus whispered quietly, just for the both of them to hear. 'I know the two of you don't get along that well, but he's really making an effort, you know.'

Sirius looked down at Remus, eyes going impossibly wide. Remus looked nothing like in his dreams. His cheeks were fuller, his hair no longer dirty and lank. His clothes fit well and Sirius could see the faint line of muscle where the shirt Remus was wearing hugged slightly tight. The spark in his eyes that Sirius had come to love was impossible bright with happiness and even the plethora of scars that had made Sirius cringe initially were faint. He was… _beautiful._

'What did you call me?' Sirius asked, holding Remus's shoulders for support as he felt his knees start to tremble. 'Padfoot…why did you call me Padfoot?'

Remus frowned and put a hand to Sirius's forehead. It slid down to cup Sirius's cheek with concern. It felt good – warm. 'Sirius, we've always called you Padfoot. Ever since you became Animagus. You're the one who came up with the name, remember? You said your dog form looked like a Padfoot. Are you sure you're all right?' Remus's thumb ran below Sirius's eye, moving down to trace the tired lines around his mouth. 'You look a little peaky.'

Sirius shook his head, feeling his throat closing up. He let his head drop into Remus's shoulders, arms winding around him tightly. Remus offered no resistance, holding Sirius with only a mild confusion that he didn't voice. It was warm; so impossibly warm that Sirius felt a prickle of tears behind his eyelids and he let them fall. Part of the warmth was also relief; part a bubbling happiness that Sirius finally allowed after years of self inflicted misery.

Remus's arms tightened around him. 'Padfoot, what's wrong?'

'Oi, can you two lovebirds break it up already? I'm bloody starving!'

Sirius wiped his eyes and grinned. 'Shut it, you stupid prat.' He smiled at Remus in assurance, reaching for his hands when he saw the look of concern and doubt flit over Remus's face. 'Come on, the food's getting cold and I feel like I haven't had a proper meal in ages.'

Remus raised an eyebrow, letting Sirius lead him to the dining table and even pulling up his chair. 'I hope that isn't an insult to my cooking. My food is hardly as abysmal as my potions.' He chuckled when Sirius refused to let go of his right hand and picked up his fork with his left hand. 'Regulus, how has work been?' Remus started conversationally, digging into his mash. His left hand shook as he tried to eat and he shot Sirius a disgruntled glance.

Sirius just laughed. He had no intention of letting go; not now when he finally had everything he'd ever wanted. Not when he had managed to finally wake up from his hellish nightmare. He needed the solid weight of Remus hand to comfort him; to keep him grounded to reality.

'Busy,' Regulus replied between mouthfuls. 'There are cases piling up and the workload isn't exactly an even distribution. There's one that….'

Sirius hung on to every word that poured out of Regulus's mouth, though most of it was legal jargon. His eyes mapped every nuance of his brother's expression, his hand progressively tightening around Remus's as he held on like a drowning man. His eyes took in the differences to his apartment. The sink no longer had dirty dishes piling up; there were six sets of cups and glasses instead of a measly two; and Sirius could even see one of the cabinet doors hanging open because of the overfill of canned food. Even the walls that was once as bare as the rest of Sirius's apartment was adorned with pictures, dating back to his and James's school days.

'You know, the other day, James was telling me about this little corner shop that sells odd muggle stuff. Some of them have been enchanted by wizards to freak muggle children and such, but it's brilliant for a laugh.' Remus turned to Sirius and smiled brightly. 'We should go together sometimes, Padfoot, but without telling Lily. Dangerous woman, that one. All that time she spent blaming pregnancy hormones, when she's only gotten worse since she popped. Now she calls it baby stress.'

There was a picture of James and Lily as well, Sirius and Remus on either side of them. They were holding a little bundle of yellow blankets between them. Sirius wondered what the baby looked like. Did he or she have red hair like Lily; or mischievous hazel eyes like James? Did they love Sirius; play with him on weekends and pull his hair when craving attention? Just the thought brought a smile to Sirius's face.

'What's the baby's name again?'

Both Remus and Regulus stopped talking to look at him oddly. Then they burst out laughing. 'Try that joke in front of James – he might just skin you alive.'

'Oh come on,' Sirius laughed, 'humour me. Pretend that I've forgotten.' He squinted towards the picture again, wanting to go nearer but not wanting to at the same time. His instincts told him to stay here, his hand enclosed within Remus's. He didn't want to get up, so he held himself back, trying desperately to see the picture. It only seemed to be getting farther away. He could see it with perfect clarity but for some reason, his brain was having difficulty registering anything beyond James and Lily's face. As if a large mental block had just fallen behind his eyes.

They laughed harder;  _unnaturally_ _hard_ , Sirius thought.

'You're a riot,' Regulus chuckled, wiping away a tear. 'What's their name… _honestly._ Some godfather you turned out to be. _'_

 _Their_ name. Not his. Not her.  _Their._

And that's when Sirius  _knew._ This was everything  _he_ _'_ _d_  ever wanted in life. This was  _his_  most inner desires. 'You don't know, do you?' Sirius asked and wasn't at all surprised when his voice came out broken and needy. He wanted to be wrong, needed it; but Sirius wasn't a fool. 'You don't know because I don't know. The baby isn't born yet, so there's no way I can know.'

Both Regulus and Remus quieted down. They didn't look guilty nor did they look angry at being found out. They looked  _blank_ , like puppets waiting to be animated. Sirius's mind gave them no emotion; hence they had nothing to channel but the way Sirius felt: blank, lost, and empty. Sirius's hold on Remus's hand, if possible, tightened. It was warm, so very warm, and when Sirius pressed a finger to his wrist, he felt the steady _thump_ _thump_ of his heartbeat. It  _had_ to be real.

'I can't stay here,' Sirius whispered, shaking his head. 'You're not…you're just a projection of what I want…you're not real…'

'Sirius, you're starting to scare me,' Remus said softly, glancing at Regulus who looked equally startled. 'You're not well. You should-'

'No,' Sirius cut in. 'No, no, no…I'm stuck Remus. The fact that I'm here means that I'm stuck somewhere in a trap; maybe Peter too. There are a lot of people outside depending on me and I need to go and help them. So I…' His words caught in his throat when Remus's eyes started to tear.

'Don't leave me,' Remus choked out, his nails now digging into the soft flesh of Sirius's hands desperately. 'If I did something wrong, I'll fix it, I promise. I'll be better. I'll be everything you want…'

'Remus, you  _are_ everything I want and that's the problem.' Sirius looked away, unable to bear looking anymore. The sight of Remus's tears and the desperate squeeze of his fingers seemed too real to fake. Perhaps he had it wrong; nightmares weren't meant to be comforting. Nightmares weren't meant to twist his heart so painfully.

'If you stay, Sirius,' Regulus said softly, 'If you stay, it will be perfect. We'll be together – there'll be no pain, no loneliness, no loss. For the first time in your life, you'll be  _happy_. Isn't that good enough to make you stay?'

For a second, Sirius actually considered it. And then he remembered Remus – the real Remus, who was trapped and possibly dying somewhere outside. Sirius was the only one who could save him at the moment; and Remus was not something Sirius was willing to sacrifice for a happiness fabricated by his own mind. 'I love you – both of you,' he whispered. A hard lump gathered in his throat and he swallowed, trying his best to strengthen his resolve. 'That's why I need to leave…' He pressed his forehead to Remus's and kissed him gently. Yet again, he was left to wonder if he was making a huge mistake - the softness of Remus's lips against his couldn't possibly be fake. 'I'll save you, I promise.'

Sirius looked at their joint hands – their fingers twined so tightly that it was impossible to tell them apart. And then he let go…

The pain that followed was terrible and all consuming. It felt like his soul was being ripped out from his body. Every nerve ending felt as if on fire; his back stretching and contorting; his legs bending and snapping at odd angles. His vision blurred as his mind tried desperately to hold on to the last of his conscious. Even through his haze, he could make out Remus's hand – still outstretched, still reaching for him in an attempt to pull him out of this circle of pain. He could hear Regulus's voice, asking him to  _'_ _take_ _Remus_ _'_ _s_ _hand,_ _please,_ _please_ _come_ _back!_ _'_

He almost did.

And then he was back on the cold stone floor, knees drawn tightly to his chest and body curling inwards in agony. Tears streamed down his face, a loud sob escaping his lips. He'd lost it – he'd let go of every single thing he'd ever wanted with all his heart. He'd given it up for this all consuming darkness that seemed to open its mouth impossibly wide and threaten to swallow Sirius whole.  _Remus._ He could still see Remus's outstretched hand; could still feel the closeness of their fingers that would convert into warmth if he just reached for them.

He bit into his lip, tasting blood, as another spasm of pain passed though him. There was something stuck in his throat, choking him. It was clogging his air pipes, growing bigger by the second; and Sirius coughed. Sirius coughed till his throat felt raw, yet he was still gasping frantically for oxygen.

'Sirius?'

Peter voice sounded so far away; faint almost.

Sirius coughed again and this time he felt it move. Whatever was stuck in his throat moved upwards, scraping painfully against the sensitive walls of his oesophagus. Sirius could taste the blood rising up in a thick glob, before spitting it out to the floor. Thick splashes of red splattered on the ground, but there was nothing more. The clogging pressure in his throat had disappeared and so had the pain.

Sirius looked up to see Peter standing over him, shock and worry painted over his face. Sirius wiped his mouth and stood. His throat burned as he spoke, 'You all right, Pete?' He coughed, tears of pain springing to his eyes again. He wiped them away roughly, feeling sorry for Peter when his old friend nodded numbly. Sirius wondered what Peter had seen; if happiness for him had been the same kind of toxic euphoria. 'How long have we been out?'

'N-Not long; few s-seconds at the most,' Peter stuttered, not even glancing at his watch. He started walking briskly, Sirius following close behind. 'But we don't have a lot of time to spare. The full moon…'

Sirius nodded, falling into a brisk jog and then all out running. He didn't know where he was going and he was glad the winding the tunnel didn't give any options but the path ahead of them. The light on his wand was serving less and less purpose, despite it being on  _Maximus._ The halls were impossibly dark; so dark that it felt like an endless abyss. Sirius could hear Peter stumbling behind him, but didn't bother to stop until he reached a dead end.

'Fuck!' Sirius screamed, glaring at the wall in front of him. Had they taken the wrong turn? Perhaps he'd been right and the trap had gone as far as to leave Sirius in an empty tunnel. Perhaps Sirius was never meant to make it out of the dream. If Sirius and Peter went back, would they be trapped and unable to get out? 'Fuck!' He punched the wall hard and that's when he heard it.

It was faint, but he could hear someone screaming behind the wall. It was definitely male and it sounded like whoever was on the other side was in a world of pain. 'Remus!' Sirius screamed, banging against the wall, his fingers desperately searching for any tell tale grooves or buttons that would let him in. The spells he sent towards it ricocheted back and almost instinctually, he knew that the lock wasn't spell based, not entirely. 'Remus! Remus, I'm here! Hold on, I'm here!' He scrabbled further, sliding against the entire length of the wall as he felt panic rising within him. 'Remus, Moony, just hold on for me!' He pushed against every tile of stone and somewhere along his search, he must have found the trigger because suddenly, the wall began to crack down the middle. It groaned loudly as it separated and pushed back on either side, creating an entryway large enough to for a person to fit through.

The first thing that hit Sirius was the sound of a pained scream that pierced him down to the very marrow of his bones. He stared at Peter in horror, barely noting the perfectly diagonal cut across his palm and the dim green glow underneath the sleeve of his shirt. The second scream broke Sirius out of his stupor and he rushed in, nearly choking from the stench that hung within the room. It smelled like vomit and old piss, and something else that was so foul that it made Sirius's eyes water. He coughed, covering his nose with his sleeve. 'Remus!'

There was a large figure huddled at one corner of the room. Sirius could barely make out the face by wand light, but he rushed towards it. The smell was terrible and Remus lay face down on the floor in an odd angle that must have been painful. Sirius quickly reached for him, turning him over, and then immediately let out a scream of horror. The corpse in his arms stared back at him, one of its eyes partially eaten by maggots and burnt skin flaking off against the brush of Sirius's hands. Sirius pushed it away from him, watching the dead body roll across the floor and barely suppressing the urge to puke.

Another scream ripped through the air.

'Sirius, he's here,' Peter called from the other side.

'Go back,' Remus croaked when Sirius crouched in front of him. 'Please, go-ugh!' Remus's words cut off as his jaw lengthened and his teeth pushed together, crowding into his mouth in the form of semi-sharp fangs. Yellow, inhuman eyes stared back at Sirius, switching to flickers of amber as Remus fought to hold the transformation back. Sirius could see bristles of brown fur wriggle like worms trapped under Remus's skin, before breaking out violently.

Remus was still trying to push away Sirius; his arms were weak but the elongating nails dragged down Sirius's arms. The other hand swatted towards Peter, trying to do the same when a loud cry fell from Peter's lips.

Remus's yellow eyes turned towards Peter immediately, 'Traitor,' he spat, his words still garbled but distinguishable enough to understand. _'_ _Traitor!_ _'_

Peter was cradling his charred arm, whimpers of pain escaping his lips. He was backing away from them, his small eyes darting nervously towards the escape, before fixing horrified expressions towards Sirius and Remus. Sirius had only begun to register the implication of Remus's words and started to make a mad dash toward the exit, but he was already too late. Peter had run out, triggering the door to the cell. The heavy stone walls that had parted for them earlier were now drawing to a close, Peter's face quickly disappearing. Sirius could only make out an expression of fear and a mouthed sorry before the crack between the walls disappeared, leaving only smooth stone at its wake. Sirius never had a chance.

'Peter!' He screamed, banging against the wall with his fists. 'Peter, you fucking traitor, I'll fucking kill you! When I get out of here, I'm going to fucking screw you over, you blood bastard!'

'Kill me.'

Sirius turned towards Remus, watching in horror as his spine bent backwards and elongated gruesomely. Sirius could hear the cracks of each link and they separated and chinked back to together.

'Please,' Remus whispered, and his voice was now barely above a whisper. Sirius could tell it was costing him a lot to simply speak now. He looked distorted and inhuman; caught between his own body and the beast's. 'Before I kill you…I-' His body curled inwards and Sirius saw the width of his chest expand, ' _Please_ _…'_

Sirius shook his head. 'We'll get out of this. I promise I'll get you out of here.'

There were tears in Remus's eyes now and Sirius couldn't tell if they were from pain or otherwise. ' _Please_ _…_ _I-_ _'_  Remus never got to say any further, as his body convulsed violently and his transformation sped to a complete. Slitted yellow eyes stared back at Sirius, curious at first and then hungry, as a slow, feral grin spread across its face.

A cold fear swept across Sirius and he pushed himself further back into the wall. His stomach twisted into knots as it circled the area once, twice and then leaped. There was no place to escape as Sirius watched its body springing in a perfect arc towards him. If thought back to that very moment, Sirius didn't know why he did it or how he'd known it would work.

Moments before the blow, Sirius found his body shifting to the form of big black dog.

* * *

'I can't wait anymore,' James harried, biting his fingernails to stubs. 'Sirius is in there; he could be in trouble….I can't just-'

Frank held his shoulder firmly, almost painfully, 'Wait. It hasn't been that long. Have faith in him.'

There was a murmur of ascent from the fair few groups that had gathered together. Neither of them had found anything; trap or otherwise. There was no mistaking the location; Dumbledore was sure as all the Order members that Remus was being held within the area. Which only led to two conclusions: either he really was in the underground tunnel they'd found or that he was already dead. It wouldn't be the first time they'd lost an Order member over a failed mission.

James fidgeted nervously. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He looked back at the rest of the Order members – many of them were keeping hidden either behind thickets of trees or through delusion charms. They were strategically placed with their wands drawn, ready for any kind of trap or attack that might spring on them. Only Frank and James stood at the tunnel entrance, waiting with growing anticipation for Sirius to return. Twenty minutes, James had promised himself; he would wait twenty minutes and not a second more. His eyes followed the hands of his watch –  _ticktock_ , he told himself, licking his lips nervously.  _Tick_ _tock,_ _Sirius._

'Peter! What happened?' Frank cried out, rushing to help Peter up the stairs. Peter was shaking badly and bleeding from severe burns on his left arm. He smelled terrible – like charred flesh and old piss. 'Where's Sirius?'

'He-' Peter panted, his eyes shifting from Frank to James and then to his feet. 'He got trapped inside. I couldn't get him out; there's some sort of dark magic on the- on the-' He coughed, 'He asked me to get help. He said it was too dangerous for me alone, so I need to get help and-'

'You're lying,' James cut in, numb realisation spreading within him. 'You can't even meet my eyes.' He shot Peter a stern look. 'If it was that dangerous, Sirius would never ask for help. He would never put anyone else at risk…'

It was a shot at the dark. Truth was that Sirius would have asked for help if he knew James was capable of doing so. But there were alarm bells of paranoia were ringing in his head; every twitch that ran through Peter's body, ever stutter and shift of eyes seemed wrong.  _Wrong,_ _wrong,_ _wrong._ If Peter was innocent, he wouldn't falter; his eyes would not widen in horror and realisation; he would not try to run.

But he did.

He struggled as Frank caught him by the back of both arms, twisting them so that he cried in pain. A part of James, the part that still believed in his old friend still asked for proof. He pulled back both of Peter's sleeve, feeling bile rising to his throat as he saw the Dark Mark tattooed on his arm. It was glowing a dark ominous green. How many times had James fought with the Dark Mark looming over his head, knowing it was a lost cause and that yet again, they would be outnumbered and suffer casualties? How many had Peter contributed to? For how long? Why?

'You dirty little traitor,' James growled, his hand closing around Peter's throat. They were coming, James knew. There were more of them coming and Sirius had been right from the very beginning – this whole mission had been a trap from the very beginning. He could see realisation sink in to every other member of the Order as they tightened their wands. Someone had also sent a Patronus, a small nightingale, presumably to the rest of the scattered groups or Dumbledore. 'I'll kill you!' His fingers tightened, threatening to cut off Peter's air supply.

'James, no!' Frank cried. 'Don-'

There was a loud bang and James barely had time to cast a  _Protego_  over himself and Frank, when he felt his fingers slipping away from Peter's throat. 'Get him!'

There was a brush of fur against his palm and the last thing he saw as he fell was a large, grey rat.

* * *

_Eyes._

_Grey eyes._

_Grey eyes that pleaded, begged, commanded for him to keep still. They pinned him. They kept him from his freedom._

_Kept him from his revenge on the human._

_Their strengths would have been unmatched if not for the human within him. The pitiful human that had purposely made itself weak so that they would die. Dirty, filthy human that always suppressed him, denied him…he hated the human._

_He growled at Grey Eyes. Bared his teeth in warning but Grey Eyes didn't listen. It didn't scare._

_The human was crying now. It never cries. On the nights when he reigns and this body is his kingdom, the human never cries. It fights at the beginning but loses too quickly, and then lets its mind fall away. The human succumbs to him; becomes him._

_But now it was crying. He didn't understand the words of humans, but he understood emotions. He understood fear, he understood survival and hunger, and he also understood attachment. Creatures like Grey Eyes bore more attachment than those like him, but sometimes he craved for a pack. A pack that others like himself grow attachment to and thus, protect._

_The human had an attachment to Grey Eyes, even though Grey Eyes was not human. Grey Eyes was like him, but smaller, with fur coloured a darker black. There was a strange sort of rage within bubbling within him at being rejected yet again by the human. If Grey Eyes and he were the same, then why did the human loathe him so? Why the Grey Eyes over him?_

_Grey Eyes whined low in his throat and licked his muzzle._

_And then he understood._

_He felt the beginnings of attachment._

_XxxxX_

It was the day James was sure he'd lost Sirius.

The rat had gotten away – both from his Death Eater comrades and the Order.

The quiet forest had turned into a battlefield in seconds, with only a few of them holding the fort while they waited for reinforcements. Even so, they were outnumbered. And as dirt blew up in chunks from misfired spells and the air and trees burned from Dark Magic, James felt his desperation rise.

He felt like a traitor to his brother and best friend.

Because he'd followed his head instead of his heart and stayed to help the team. Because logic told him that it was all right to lose one if you could save many. It wouldn't be the first battle they had suffered losses, but James didn't want that casualty to be his only brother. Selfishly, he hoped it would be anyone else but Sirius.

It was that very sense of loss that fueled James to fight.

And that very sense of loss that had him falling to the ground, blood gushing from the side of his head in what would later be treated as a minor injury. It hadn't seemed minor back then; not when James fought to keep his conscious and lost the battle just as quickly.

There were no casualties. Not this time.

It was Frank Longbottom who later found Sirius, huddled in a corner, fingertips bleeding raw from his efforts to escape their stone prison. He was cradling Remus Lupin against his chest like a child, breathing hard as if just suppressing the urge to cry. He'd looked up at Frank with vacant eyes and chapped lips, and pleaded softly,  _'_ _Don_ _'_ _t_ _let_ _him_ _die._ _'_

* * *

If Remus had died and gone to heaven, then he was glad. Finally, he felt at peace. The constant onslaught of pain that he had suffered through for months had finally come to an end. It was warm where he lay, held so carefully much like his mother did when he was a child. The ground underneath him was soft and he knew that his legs were bare from the soft tickling sensation against his skin. A soft breeze ruffled his hair and Remus buried further in, seeking out the comforting smell that overtook his senses. He let out a soft sigh of content and opened his eyes slowly.

'Afternoon.'

Remus closed his eyes again and smiled. He really was in heaven. 'Afternoon,' he replied, voice hoarse from sleep. He opened his eyes enough to form tiny slits, admiring the face in front of him. It was truly beautiful: chapped pink lips turned upwards in a smile; stormy grey eyes that looked light silver because of the dark lashes framing them; and a slightly crooked nose that crinkled slightly when Remus ran his finger over it. 'Are you dead, too?' he asked softly, and a part of him selfishly wanted Sirius to be so. He didn't want this to be another one of his attempts at communication or just another lucid dream.

Sirius chuckled, his breath fanning Remus's hair. It hadn't been a breeze after all. 'What's your mother's middle name?'

Remus frowned, caught off guard by the completely unrelated question. 'She has two – her real one and the one I gave her…' He rubbed his eyes, feeling the grittiness of sleep-sand against his palms. He looked past Sirius, squinting slightly when the light behind the other man's body seemed impossibly bright. His fingers clenched around the sheets covering him, feeling their softness and malleability. Everything seemed so tranquil and white, the only smattering of colour was the vase of red roses that stood on the bedside table – this was definitely heaven.

'This is real,' Sirius whispered and he sounded as if he'd just come to the conclusion himself. 'We found you a week ago and brought you to Mungo's. You were deteriorating quickly and in a lot of pain, so they kept you asleep to speed up the healing process and reduce the suffering as much as possible.' He smiled, running a hand through Remus's hair gently and Remus noticed that they'd it short for him. 'They told me you'd wake today. I've been waiting…'

Remus felt a weird flutter in his chest and slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out to touch Sirius's face. He traced each feature with careful precision, committing it to his mind in case Sirius disappeared again. Sirius was patient with him and kept his eyes closed as Remus's shaky fingers ran over his eyes, his mouth, down to his jaw and shoulders. And before Remus knew it, he was pulling Sirius roughly into an embrace. He was holding the man too tight, he knew this; the strength in his arms had returned and he was no longer the waif of a man that he'd become over the last couple of months. But Sirius didn't protest and only held him closer, arms wrapped securely around Remus's waist. There seemed no way to express the confusion of emotions he was feeling – relief, security, love, and elation all blended together as one.

'I don't understand…I remember being…' Remus grimaced, ' _trapped_.'

'We were,' Sirius confirmed, 'we would have been dead if not for your warning. Peter has been feeding information to Voldemort for a long time now; your rescue was one of the many. He was leading all of us into a trap.'

'I remember I burned his hand. It-It only happens when-'

'Someone tries to hurt you,' Sirius completed, nodding. 'Dumbledore explained to me…in a jumbled sort of sense…and I pieced the rest together.' He carefully ran a thumb over Remus's cheek, as if expecting to be burned also. 'That night, when you were being attacked…by Greyback…I think,' he looked at Remus for affirmation then continued, 'I put myself between the two of you unknowingly. I was trying to reach you and at the very moment he was about to kill you, I came through. I died, if only for a few seconds, but it saved your life.' He smiled softly. 'I'm glad I did.'

Remus heart skipped a beat. He returned Sirius's smile with one of his own, a slight blush tainting his cheeks. 'Thank you for coming for me.'

Sirius shook his head. 'It wasn't just me. Everyone in the Order came for you. Everyone fought for you and now because of you, they're  _safe_. Well,' Sirius put in grudgingly, 'as safe as it can be, I suppose; given our cause.' Remus remembered Sirius's hate for the Order and suddenly felt a rush of gratefulness towards Sirius for having come this far just for him. 'There's going to a new prerogative now – a search for Horcruxes. They're difficult to find and probably set between a lot of traps.' Sirius swallowed. 'I'm joining them,' he admitted, reaching for Remus's hands and holding them within his. 'That was my mistake from the very beginning. Rather than blame the Order for letting the people I love die, I should have worked to protect them. This time, with you, I'll get it right.'

 _Love._ Sirius had said that, hadn't he? He'd said,  **love** _._ _Just_ _to_ _be_ _sure,_ Remus thought, as he leaned and pressed his lips tentatively to Sirius's. His heart beat holes through his ribcage as he waited, eyes closed and praying that he hadn't misread anything. When Sirius began to respond, Remus's mind soared and then finally shut down. He ran by instinct, hands moving underneath Sirius's shirt to run across warm skin. His knees creaked from an entire week of disuse and even his fingers felt stiff, but he took no mind. He pressed himself closer, breath hitching when he felt Sirius's push up his embarrassingly short hospital gown. Sirius's hands caressed his thighs, running over his arse and squeezing.

'We're in a hospital,' Sirius said, voice already hoarse from arousal.

Remus could tell by the erection pressing against his hip that Sirius didn't particularly care. Neither did Remus. There were only a few seconds of hesitation, before Remus caught that familiar wicked glint in Sirius's eyes (the one he'd admired for hours in school) and pulled him into a hard kiss. Tongues tangled and teeth clicked, and he felt Sirius moan a little when Remus's knee moved between his legs. A part of Remus told him that he should be taking it slower; that he'd only just woken up and this was their first time together. First times, the logic of romance said, had to be flowery and slow and poetic in a way that involved wine and fireworks. But Remus had at least gotten one out three right; because there _were_  fireworks behind his eyes every time Sirius's naked cock brushed against his own. And yes, it was frantic and desperate and just  _bodies_ pushing at each other, but Remus had waited for this for  _years._ Had hid behind bookshelves, watching and wishing and hoping and loving so, so hard that sometimes it hurt.

'Shh,' Sirius whispered, when an involuntary moan slipped out of Remus's mouth. 'Medi-Witch could come in anytime.' Even as he warned Remus, Sirius's traitorous hand was pumping their cocks together. His eyes were wild as they looked at Remus; blown out to a shade of black that could have matched his unkempt hair. There was sweat beading across his forehead, running down the smattering of stubble across his jaw and disappearing behind the collar of his shirt.

Remus pulled the sheets over their heads. Sunlight filtered through the thin fabric, illuminating the little cocoon they'd created with stark white light. Remus was again hit by the notion that surely he was in heaven. He could see nothing beyond Sirius's beside him and his own hands joining Sirius's between their bodies, bringing both of them to the very peaks of their orgasms.

Remus bit into Sirius's shoulder as he came, eyes screwed shut tightly and body jerking into their combined hands. One of Sirius's hands came up to encircle his waist, pulling him closer as Sirius muffled a loud moan against Remus's chest.

'I used to look for you,' Sirius confessed after a while, when they'd cleaned up their mess and righted their clothes. Sirius was holding Remus against his chest, fingers massaging the knots in his shoulders. 'I didn't remember it at first, but after you showed me that memory…' He laughed softly, his eyes glancing towards the door again to check if any of the Healers were nearby. 'I couldn't remember what you looked like and I would curse myself for not taking a good look at your face earlier. It was ridiculous…' He kissed Remus's forehead softly before resting his chin on the werewolf's head. 'It was first time I'd ever felt that way from only a kiss. I'd come looking for you in the library, exactly where I'd found you. I didn't even know what I wanted out of it – to figure things out or pursue a relationship...I just wanted to find you again…'

Remus blushed, still unable to believe any of this was reality. He whispered softly, 'You found me…'

Sirius laughed, his chest vibrating against Remus's ear pleasantly. 'Toughest game of bloody hide and seek, ever.'

If Remus had to describe his feelings from that very moment of his life, he would call it  _euphoria._

* * *

'Hello! Hi!' The woman jogging up to Sirius waved manically, the baby in her arms bouncing with every step. She stopped in front of Sirius, catching her breath in quick pants before she spoke, 'Sirius, right? Do you remember me? We met the last time you came, though I'm not burning anything this time.' She let out an embarrassed laugh that her son mimicked.

'Patty,' Sirius smiled, kicking the engine. 'And little Moony,' he tickled the child under his chin, delighting in the giggle that escaped Moony's lips. 'How are you?'

'Oh the usual. I was wondering where you'd gone to since you never came back. Have you finally decided to move here?'

Sirius shook his head. 'Not yet. I needed another opinion,' he gestured towards the other figure sitting still on the motorbike and he could tell by the surprised look on Patricia's face that she hadn't noticed him until now. She peeked past Sirius's shoulder curiously, causing Sirius to chuckle. 'Remus, this is the woman I told you about, do you remember? Come on and say hello. He's just a little shy,' Sirius explained when Remus seemed hesitant. He gestured for Remus to come forward with a slight nod of his head. 'But he loves children, so I have a feeling Moony might take a right shine to him.'

'I don't suppose he babysits,' Patricia joked, still watching Remus curiously as he dismounted the bike and walked towards them. Her curiosity slowly turned into wide-eyed astonishment as Remus took off his helmet and set it aside.

'Hello, Patty,' Remus whispered softly, and Sirius could see that his eyes were turning glassy. 'Hello Moony,' he laughed when Moony promptly put the fingers Remus had stretched out in a mock handshake into his mouth. His voice broke a little and Sirius reached for his other hand, squeezing it tightly.

Patricia had still not said anything. She was staring, quite unabashedly, at Remus. Staring and staring and staring, as if desperately trying to fill in the pieces together. Her teeth dug into her lip in confusion. A part of Sirius wished she would remember, just like that, but he knew better. Memory spells like this were powerful, and the constant sense of wrong that crowded your mind was weak enough to be overpowered. A part of her recognised Remus, probably felt an attachment to him that she couldn't explain; and it was that part of her that made her touch a trembling hand to his face. 'Honey, do I know you from somewhere?'

Remus smiled weakly. 'I doubt it, ma'am.'

'Your parents maybe?' She asked hopefully.

Remus shook his head and this time, he could not control the single tear that rolled down his cheek. 'I'm an orphan, ma'am.'

'Oh honey,' Patricia's stare broke as she reached out to wipe Remus's cheek. 'Don't cry. I'm…' she trailed off, biting her lip again, before winding her arms around him tightly. Moony got squeezed between their chests, but didn't complain, only watching them with wide eyes and a thumb in his mouth. 'You'll be fine,' she whispered in his ear, patting his back softly, 'Don't worry, you'll be just fine.' She seemed almost reluctant to break their embrace, her hands lingering as she moved away. She smiled kindly and tried on a fake cheery expression, 'So, what do you think of our small little town? Do you like it enough to move in?'

Remus didn't seem capable of speaking so Sirius answered instead, 'Remus and I are looking for some place quiet.' He made sure Patricia noticed their entwined hands. 'Where people don't pry or ask too many questions. Where it's safe…'

'Oh,' Patricia stuttered, before catching herself and smiling brightly. 'Then I think you would like it here,' she assured. 'Everyone keeps to themselves here mostly and we have an odd couple right down the road here, though most say they're just friends and…' She laughed nervously. 'Sorry, I'm rambling.' She was looking at Remus again, and Sirius realised that she'd never actually stopped. Her eyes never left Remus even when talking to Sirius. 'You'll move in, won't you?' She asked Remus more than anyone else. It sounded like a plea.

'I-' Remus looked at his feet, 'We don't know yet.' His fingers closed tightly around Sirius's.

Sirius took the hint. 'Patty, I'm so sorry but we really need to leave now. We'll talk later, maybe?' He didn't wait for Patricia to reply and didn't notice her shake her head, instead pulling Remus towards the bike and quickly starting the engine again. He could feel the urgency in Remus to get away from the tautness of his body and the way he hastened to pull his helmet on. Perhaps coming had been a bad idea after all.

'Wait! Patricia cried, running towards them just as Sirius buckled his own helmet. 'Wait, I know this sounds ridiculous but I feel like…' She grabbed Remus's arm, her expression almost desperate, 'I feel like you need to move here. You'd like it, I swear, and I…Moony and I would love to see you again….' She trailed off, moving away, 'I don't want you to think of me as mad, but please; I'd like you to consider it.'

Remus nodded. 'I will.' He reached out to ruffle Moony's hair.

And then they were speeding off, on the roads at first; and then when there was nothing left but green landscape, Sirius's bike ascended and took off to the sky. They already had a home to go to – a flat that needed to be filled with Remus's things and memories they were likely to create. A family that wasn't related by blood but by heart.

'Why didn't you reverse the spell?' Sirius asked after a long hour of silence. He'd slowed the bike down to a comfortable pace, leaning back against Remus's body as they watched the forest below them pass in a green blur. The sky seemed impossibly blue this up close and Sirius felt that if he just reached out his hand a little bit, he could touch the clouds and feel it burst in his hands. It was a silly notion, but the feeling of Remus's arms wrapped around his waist did odd things to his brain. 'You could have had them back, so why didn't you?'

Remus shrugged and rested his chin on Sirius's shoulder. 'Why steal from them the little bit of happiness they've managed to build? The war isn't really over yet, is it?'

Sirius smiled and placed a reassuring hand over Remus's. 'It'll be soon, I promise.'

* * *

 

**The End**

* * *

 


End file.
